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X 
' 


X      - 

Caribet  AT  VISEGRAU  CASTLE. — Chapter  \\\. 


PADDLES  AND  POLITICS 
DOWN  THE  DANUBE 


BY 

POULTNEY  BIGELOW 


WITH   ILLUSTRATIONS   BY   THE   AUTHOR 


NEW   YORK 

CHARLES  L.  WEBSTER  &  CO. 
1892 


146030 


Copyright,  1892, 
CHARLES  L.  WEBSTER  &  CO. 

(All  rights  reserved.) 


PRESS  OF 
JENKINS  &  McCowAN, 

NEW    YORK. 


I 


EDITOR'S   NOTE 


THE  idea  of  cruising  the  whole  length  of  the  Danube 
in  an  American  sailing  canoe  had  for  many  years  been 
cherished  by  Mr.  Bigelow,  but  not  until  the  summer  of 
1891  had  the  opportunity  presented  itself  to  make  the 
journey.  His  canoe  voyages  in  this  country,  the  West 
India  Islands,  and  in  parts  of  Europe  other  than  the 
Danubian  districts,  had  convinced  Mr.  Bigelow  that 
the  traveler  who  was  able  to  carry  with  him  his  bed, 
his  food,  his  library,  and  his  clothing,  without  exhaust- 
ing his  physical  powers,  was  well  equipped  for  learning 
something  new.  The  canoeist,  in  his  opinion,  was  the 
only  traveler  who  could  boast  of  the  full  combination 
of  advantages  thus  enumerated. 

It  was  Mr.  Bigelow's  original  intention  to  write  a 
descriptive  and  historical  book  on  this  great  interna- 
tional highway,  and  with  that  object  in  mind  he  invited 
an  artist  friend  to  accompany  him  for  the  purpose  of 
making  a  series  of  drawings.  When  their  whole  voyage 
was  completed  other  plans  developed;  and  Mr.  Bigelow 
therefore  abandoned  his  first  purpose,  and  has  limited 
himself  to  a  briefer  description  of  the  trip  and  to  dis- 


vi  EDITOR  S   NOTE 

cussions  of  Danubian  politics  in  the  light  of  information 
gained  at  first  hand.  A  few  rough  drawings  which  he 
made  on  the  way  were  not  intended  for  more  than  the 
diversion  of  his  children,  but  he  has  been  requested  to 
allow  these  to  be  reproduced  for  the  purpose  of  illus- 
trating this  volume,  and  as  giving  remarkably  lifelike 
pictures  of  the  racial  types  along  the  river. 

The  readers  of  Mr.  Bigelow's  companion-book  on 
The  German  Emperor,  and  His  Eastern  Neighbors,  and 
those  who  peruse  the  present  work,  will  soon  discover 
that  their  author  regards  the  Danube  as  a  European 
highway  which,  like  its  American  counterpart,  the 
Mississippi,  can  never  attain  full  development  until  it 
owns  but  one  master  from  source  to  mouth.  The 
author's  opinion  as  to  who  this  master  shall  be  is  pretty 
clearly  suggested  in  the  following  chapters. 


Credit  is  due  the  "  Centtiry  Magazine  "  and  "  Harper  s 
New  Monthly  Magazine  "for  portions  of  this  book  which 
have  been  reprinted  from  their  pages. 


TO 

A   DEAR    HUNGARIAN    FRIEND, 

GERSTER    LAJOS 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  Incidental  to  the  First  Day  on  the  Danube  .  17 

II.  The  Watch  on  the  Rhine 26 

III.  Ilohenzollern  Caslie 34 

IV.  Dams  and  Rapids 42 

V.  The  Fortress  of   Ulm 47 

VI.  A  Rare  Old  Town  in  Havana 55 

VII.  One  or  Two  Suggestions  to  the  Canoeist      .  63 

VIII.  The  Danube  Waterman 71 

IX.  The  Capital  of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire       .  77 

X.  Priestly  Miracles 82 

XI.  Cai-ibe,;  in  the  Strudel  and  Wirbel     ....  98 

XII.  Why  We  All  Love  the  Magyar 102 

XIII.  A  Night  of  Revelry  near  Budapesth    .     .     .  117 

XIV.  Entertained  by  Hungarian  Peasants     .      .      .  132 
XV.  Some  Noble  Gypsies 142 

XVI.  The  Szegedin  Harvest        154 

XVII.  Servian  Public  Opinion 164 

XVIII.  Caribee  Shoots  the  Rapids  of  the  Iron  Gates  171 

XIX.  In  a  Bulgarian  Water-Mill 193 

XX.  A  Turkish  Bit  of  River 204 

XXI.  My  Friend,  the  Bulgarian  Agent     .     .     .     .  217 

XXII.  The  Jew  from  a  Danube  Point  of  View    .     .  226 

XXIII.  Russia  at  the  Mouth  of  the  Danube     .     .     .  240 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

Caribee  at  Visegrad  Castle — Frontispiece 

Launching  the  Canoe  Caribee 24 

Portrait  of  Max  Schneckenburger 28 

Climbing  to  Hohenzollern  Castle 39 

Approaching  a  Dam        44 

Caribee  on  Shore  with  Tent  Up 57 

Plan  of  the  Original  Rob  Roy  Canoe 65 

Plan  of  Canoe  Cai  ibee 73 

Hungarians  Dancing 134 

Gypsies  Dancing : 149 

In  the  Whirlpools  of  the  Iron  Gate 173 

Caribee  at  Trajan's  Tablet ...  183 

Servian  Fisherman  on  Horseback 195 

Turkish  Sailor  Paddling  a  Dugout 201 

In  the  Kalafat  Cafe 205 

Angry  Turkish  Skipper 207 

Caribee  Borne  by  Bulgarian  Porters 209 

Water  Carrier,  Bulgaria 210 

Greek  Priest  in  Bulgaria 211 

Girl  in  the  Market,  Widin        212 

Turkish  Porter 214 

Bulgarian  Gens  d'Arme 215 

Bulgarian  Official 218 

Bulgarian  Loafer        219 

Turkish  Emigrant 222 

Watermelons  for  Sale 223 


xii  LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

Jews  at  a  Russian  Railway  Station 227 

Russian  Peasant 228 

Roumanian  Peasant 230 

Herdsman  of  Moldavia 233 

Russian  Cab  Driver  in  Galatz 235 

Russian  Railway  Conductor .  237 

Roumanian  Peasant  and  Her  Baby 241 

Russian  Sentinel 242 

Home  from  Market 245 

Roumanian  Officer 248 

Parish  Priest  in  Roumania 257 


PREFACE 


SUCH  instruction  or  amusement  as  the  reader 
is  able  to  extract  from  these  pages  is  due  in  the 
first  degree  to  the  kind  friends  who  smoothed 
my  social  progress  and  gave  me  access  to 
political  opinions  worth  reflecting. 

Many  of  these  gentlemen  I  cannot  mention; 
for  in  Poland,  Russia,  and  Bulgaria,  people  who 
think  do  so  with  great  risk. 

The  members  of  the  Lia  Rowing  Club  of 
Vienna,  the  Neptune  Rowing  Club  of  Buda- 
pesth,  the  Donau  Rowing  Club  of  Ulm — these 
three  placed  Caribec  and  her  crew  under  pro- 
found obligations.  Their  members  entertained 
us  in  the  best  spirit  of  fellowship,  and  gave  us 
a  new  type  of  the  well-trained  oarsman  and 
the  high-bred  gentleman. 

The  Danube  Steamship  Company  showed 
me  many  courtesies,  thanks  to  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  von  Deines,  the  German  Military  At- 
tache in  Vienna. 

Amongst  the  many  to  whom,  in  this  regard, 
I  am  debtor,  are  Dr.  Wm.  Howard  Russell, 


XIV  PREFACE 

the  first  of  war  correspondents ;  the  late  Ser- 
vian Finance  Minister,  Myatovitch  ;  Professor 
Carl  Abel,  the  Orientalist ;  Messrs.  Luther  and 
Schlotterbeck,  who  are  engineering  the  Iron 
Gates  Works  ;  Demeter  Ghika,  the  Roumanian 
diplomate  ;  Mr.  Heinz,  the  chief  engineer  of 
the  Franzens  Canal ;  Professor  Waldstein,  of 
the  American  School  of  Archaeology  at 
Athens  ;  Professor  James  Bryce,  M.  P. ;  George 
von  Bunsen,  of  Berlin  ;  Dr.  Bamberger,  of  the 
German  Reichstag ;  Colonel  Frederick  Grant, 
the  American  minister  in  Vienna ;  Dr.  Carl 
Schrader,  member  of  the  German  Reichstag ; 
Professor  Pultsky,  of  the  Budapesth  Museum  ; 
Pultsky  Agost,  member  of  the  Hungarian 
parliament — and  a  host  more  whose  names  it 
is  a  pleasure  to  recall  as  I  write. 

P.  B. 

The  Century  Club, 
Neiv  York,  May,  1892. 


PADDLES  AND  POLITICS 
DOWN    THE    DANUBE 


PADDLES  AND  POLITICS  DOWN 
THE  DANUBE 

CHAPTER    I 

REMARKS    INCIDENTAL    TO   THE     FIRST    DAY 
ON    THE    DANUBE 


'"T^HE  light  had  faded  from  the  longest  and 
JL  brightest  day  of  the  year  1891  when  three 
very  tired  men  lay  down  to  sleep  upon  the 
bottom  boards  of  three  well-thumped  canoes. 
They  had  started  that  same  morning  from  the 
place  usually  accepted  as  the  source  of  the 
Danube,  had  tumbled  their  boats  over  seven 
dams  or  weirs,  had  escaped  the  rocks  in  the 
rapids,  had  feasted  their  eyes  upon  meadows 
glorious  in  wealth  of  flower  color,  had  passed 
below  grim  ruins  many  of  feudal  castles,  chat- 
ted with  the  people  on  the  banks—  and  more 
cleanly,  intelligent,  and  friendly  population  it 
would  be  difficult  to  find  in  Europe  —  and  had 
finished  the  day  a  little  below  Tuttlingen,  a 
17 


1 8  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

town  forever  famous  in  that  here  was  educated 
the  author  of  the  "Watch  on  the  Rhine." 

While  our  three  canoeists  are  adjusting  the 
angles  of  their  anatomical  structure  so  as  to 
sleep  sweetly  upon  a  bare  board,  let  me  retrace 
the  features  of  the  first  day's  navigation  of  the 
Danube,  the  first  of -the  many  that  are  to  carry 
us,  we  fondly  hope,  "  from  the  Black  Forest  to 
the  Black  Sea." 

The  little  town  of  Donaueschingen,  perched 
high  in  the  invigorating  air  of  the  Black  Forest, 
has  been  arbitrarily  designated  the  source  of 
the  Danube.  The  prince  who  owns  most  of 
the  land  in  the  neighborhood  has  built  an  orna- 
mental stone  basin  for  a  very  powerful  spring 
that  gushes  out  close  to  his  palace,  and  has 
erected  a  portentous  slab,  notifying  all  the 
world  that  this  is  the  genuine  source  of  the 
greatest  of  European  streams,  that  it  is  2,840 
kilometres  to  the  Black  Sea,  and  678  metres 
above  tide-water.  I  ventured  to  point  out  to 
an  intelligent  Black -Forester  who  stood  with 
me  by  this  monument  that  the  real  source  of 
the  Danube  was  higher  up,  but  he  regarded  my 
statement  as  outrageous.  "  Gott  in  Himmel !  " 
said  he,  piously.  "  Here  lives  the  prince;  here 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  19 

is  his  palace;  here  is  the  official  statement  cut 
in  the  stone.  What  more  do  you  want  ? " 

I  was  silenced,  but  could  not  help  feeling 
that  if  an  enterprising  promoter  could  secure 
some  other  prince,  get  up  a  stock  company, 
hire  a  spring  further  up,  build  a  summer  hotel, 
call  the  place  "Danube  High  Spring,"  or 
"Danube  Source  Original,"  carve  it  in  stone, 
and  make  the  rival  prince  hold  court  at  the 
summer  hotel,  in  three  seasons  Donaueschingen 
would  be  bankrupt. 

Nevertheless,  we  rejoiced  in  considering  this 
place  the  source,  for  even  if  there  are  others, 
none  of  them  is  more  picturesque,  more  ven- 
erable, more  clean,  or  more  full  of  kindly  peo- 
ple. The  prince  has  given  the  town  a  park, 
every  bit  of  which  is  full  of  beaut}',  and  as  the 
little  town  seems  built  upon  it,  one  cannot 
move  from  the  front  door  without  feeling  that 
here  at  least  the  delights  of  country  life  are 
joined  with  those  of  a  little  city.  It  is  a  place 
to  spend  a  long  summer  with  one  or  two  friends 
addicted  to  pedestrianism  or  the  bicycle,  for 
the  roads  are  excellent  in  all  directions,  and  the 
scenery  a  little  of  all,  from  the  grandest  to  the 
prettiest. 

To  us,  however,  the  value  of  Donaueschingen 


2O  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

consisted  mainly  in  the  fact  that  it  held  our 
three  canoes,  and  that  they  were  to  be  launch- 
ed here  on  their  voyage  down  the  Danube. 
And,  for  that  matter,  the  people  of  the  town 
appeared  to  share  our  feelings,  for  as  we  work- 
ed upon  our  tiny  craft  in  the  courtyard  of  the 
Gasthaus  zum  Schiitzen,  we  gradually  became 
the  centres  about  which  a  large  proportion  of 
the  population,  both  male  and  female,  hovered 
and  asked  questions.  The  host  took  great  in- 
terest in  our  work,  mainly,  we  hope,  from  per- 
sonal sympathy  —  perhaps,  also,  because,  of 
those  who  came,  many  remained  to  talk  it  over 
in  his  beer-room. 

Among  a  people  so^Jamed  for  woodwork 
and  clocks  as  those  of  the  Black  Forest  it  was 
not  surprising  that  they  should  enjoy  a  novelty 
that  appealed  directly  to  their  most  widely 
practised  craft.  The  three  little  boats  were 
alike  in  dimensions,  weight,  and  rig,  all  being 
made  on  the  banks  of  the  East  River,  New 
York.  The  weight  of  each  is  eighty  pounds 
net,  to  which  is  added  that  of  two  masts  and 
sails,  a  brass  folding  centre-board,  a  nickel  rud- 
der that  drops  nine  inches  below  the  keel, 
camping  kitchen,  steward's  pantry,  tents,  and 
clothing  for  day  and  night.  When  the  canoe 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  21 

is  fully  loaded  it  exceeds  considerably  the 
weight  it  represented  on  the  stocks,  but  is  never 
more  than  can  be  conveniently  carried  by  any 
two  of  us  for  a  reasonable  distance,  as,  for  in- 
stance, around  a  dam,  or  onto  high  ground 
when  going  into  camp. 

This  point  of  weight  is  the  most  vital  one  in 
a  cruising  canoe,  for  it  is  only  by  being  so  light 
that  it  can  accomplish  so  many  objects.  We 
learned  to  value  this  element  on  the  first  day, 
for  we  had  seven  dams  to  pass,  some  of  which 
forced  us  to  "  carry."  Of  course,  had  our  boats 
weighed  as  much  as  some  English  sailing  ca- 
noes, we  might  have  procured  the  service  of 
people  living  in  the  neighborhood,  and  thus 
achieved  our  object;  but  the  carrying  of  canoes 
by  inexperienced  hands  is  not  al \vays  well  for 
the  boats. 

Our  party  passed  twenty-one  dams  before 
reaching  the  navigable  part  of  the  river.  We 
never  accepted  any  assistance  from  the  people 
on  the  banks,  although  it  was  generously  of- 
fered. We  found  that  one  of  us  at  bow  and 
another  at  stern  were  quite  sufficient,  and  that 
we  saved  much  wear  and  tear  and  gained 
enormously  in  time  by  carrying  them  ourselves. 

The  canoes  are  fifteen  feet  long,  thirty  inches 


22  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

wide,  and  leave  a  space  of  about  one  foot  be- 
tween the  bottom  board  and  the  deck.  At 
bow  and  stern  are  water-tight  compartments 
reaching  about  three  and  a  half  feet  from  each 
extremity,  and  giving  space  enough  for  the 
clothing  and  stores  of  any  reasonable  camper- 
out.  The  remaining  eight  feet  of  the  boat 
means  a  clear  space  for  him  to  stretch  himself 
at  night — two  feet  longer  than  a  steamship 
berth,  and  quite  as  wide.  Sleeping  on  wood 
seems  discouraging  work,  but  one's  bones  soon 
become  adapted  to  it.  The  luxuriously  inclined 
can  spread  a  blanket  or  woolly  garment  in  lieu 
of  spring  mattress.  The  sides  of  the  canoe 
shelter  the  sleeper  from  the  wind,  and  in  case 
of  a  shower  he  has  a  series  of  deck  hatches  that 
fit  nicely  each  to  the  other,  and  keep  a  large 
part  of  him  dry.  For  the  rest,  he  can  pull  a 
rubber  blanket  over  the  boat,  and  be  quite  sure 
that  no  harm  will  result.  This  is,  however,  a 
makeshift,  which  we  adopted  in  order  to  avoid 
the  weight  of  our  tents  until  we  had  passed  all 
the  dams.  For  the  same  reason  we  sent  on  our 
masts  and  sails  to  Ulm,  and  proceeded  in  "  light 
marching  order." 

Our   boats  are  entirely  of  wood — broad  flat 
oak  keel,  an  infinite  number  of  little  dainty  oak 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  23 

ribs,  on  to  which  the  sides  are  copper-riveted. 
The  decks  are  of  mahogany,  and  in  general 
they  represent  an  amount  of  elasticity  and 
strength  never  before  combined  in  boats  of 
their  weights  and  dimensions  for  a  cruise  of 
this  kind. 

As  to  stores  and  dress,  that  question  is  easily 
solved  in  a  country  like  Germany.  We  have 
the  authority  of  the  cook  and  of  the  purser  of 
our  party  in  saying  that  it  is  unnecessary  to 
bring  from  home  more  than  the  mere  boat. 
Any  little  town  in  the  fatherland  can  supply 
the  needs  of  our  party  as  well  as  London  or 
New  York;  and  at  Donaueschingen  we  bought 
an  excellent  spirit  stove;  pots,  pans,  plates, 
etc.,  of  enameled  iron;  and  of  course  a  long 
sausage,  coffee,  tea,  sugar,  lemons,  bread,  but- 
ter. Germans  make  and  use  large  quantities 
of  preserved  meats  and  soups,  and  it  must  be  a 
small  town  indeed  where  a  canoeist  cannot  fill 
his  pantry  satisfactorily.  This  item  is  the  more 
important  in  that  the  intending  canoeist  who 
reads  this  may  not  merely  save  himself  the 
customs  duty  on  the  frontier,  but  the  freight  as 
well. 

But  come — an  end  to  prefaces  !   It  is  already 
past  8  o'clock,  and  we   have  been  up  since   5, 


PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 


making  final  dispositions  for  the  cruise.  All 
Donaueschingen  is  gathered  about  the  inn,  on 
the  bridge,  and  along  the  embankments  of  the 
stream — ay,  even  the  uniformed  representative 
of  the  military  department  is  there  to  wish  us 
God-speed,  to  say  nothing  of  a  clever  young 
lady  from  Boston,  to  whom  two  of  us  are  in- 
debted for  hav- 
ing our  nation- 
al ensigns  neat- 
ly laced  to  our 
miniature  flag- 
posts. 

One  shove  of 
the  paddle,  and 
we  are  clear  of 
the  bushes  and 
in  the  strength 
of  a  current  car- 
rying us  at  the 
rate  of  two  and  a  half  miles  an  hour.  The 
stream  passes  through  the  beautiful  park,  and 
we  are  for  an  hour  or  more  starting  up  swans, 
whose  headquarters  are  in  the  park  lake,  but 
whose  enterprise  carries  them  for  many  miles 
down  the  river. 

Our  first  day  is  crowded  with  the  sensations 


Caribee  WAS  SLID  OVER  THE  IRON   RAILINGS, 

AND  INTO  THE  HEADWATERS  OF  THE  DANUBE,  AT 
DONAUESCHINGEN    IN    THE    BLACK   FOREST. 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  25 

that  contribute  to  happiness — a  bright  day, 
with  just  enough  of  passing  cloud  to  save  the 
skies  from  monotony;  a  body  of  clear,  crisp, 
eddying  water  beneath,  just  lively  enough  to 
make  one  have  an  eye  to  the  paddle  lest  one 
be  caught  foul  in  swinging  around  a  sharp 
corner;  banks  of  grass  retreating  from  the  river 
until  they  merge  themselves  in  the  leafy  re- 
cesses that  crown  the  distant  mountain-tops  of 
the  Black  Forest;  and  flowers! — who  could  do 
justice  to  the  wealth  of  gorgeous  coloring  that 
sets  its  fragrant  limits  on  the  edges  of  this 
stream  ?  From  the  decks  of  our  boats  we  feast 
our  eyes  upon  such  an  expanse  of  floral  beauty 
as  only  California  could  match;  and  as  our 
craft  skirt  the  shore  we  can  enjoy  the  charming 
details  of  this  picture  by  picking  our  boats  full 
of  these  sweet  ephemeral  treasures  without  so 
much  as  leaving  our  canoes,  or  even  slacking 
their  speed. 


26  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 


CHAPTER  II 

THE   WATCH    ON   THE   RHINE    AND  OUR  FIRST 
CAMP   ON   THE  DANUBE 

XTEIDINGEN,  Gutmadingen,  Geisigen, 
-L  ^i  Immendingen,  Mohringen,  Tuttlingen — 
all  these  are  passed  before  reaching  our  first 
camp.  But  of  these  Tuttlingen  is  our  darling. 
We  have  not  passed  a  village  that  could  not 
have  made  us  happy  for  many  days;  each  with 
its  ruined  castle,  its  mediaeval  tower,  its  steep 
gables,  its  colored  tiles,  its  quaint  belfry,  its 
tidy  and  cheery  peasants;  but  all  this,  and  more 
too,  is  united  in  Tuttlingen.  This  little  town 
also  has  its  feudal  castle,  its  ruined  battlements, 
its  legends,  and  its  quaint  gables;  but  it  has 
more  than  this — it  has  the  proud  distinction  of 
having  educated  the  poet  who  made  United 
Germany.  The  war-song  that  has  made  all 
Germans  merge  their  local  differences  in  one 
great  purpose — the  common  fatherland;  that 
united  Bavarians  and  Prussians,  Saxons  and 
Wiirtembergers  in  1870;  that  brought  victory 
over  the  French,  and  an  imperial  crown  to  the 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  2/ 

House  of  Hohenzollern — that  song  is  "  Die 
Wacht  am  Rhein,"  written  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
one,  by  a  lad  whose  schooling  was  obtained  in 
Tuttlingen.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  his  name 
is  Max  Schneckenburger. 

The  people  of  Tuttlingen  are  now  raising  the 
money  needed  to  place  here  a  worthy  monu- 
ment to  the  man  who  has  made  their  town  fa- 
mous. They  have  placed  a  square  pedestal  up- 
on the  bank  of  the  stream  as  a  mute  invitation 
to  help  on  the  noble  work.  Of  course  we 
brought  our  mite  from  across  the  Atlantic,  and 
promised  to  stir  our  friends  up  also.  In  Tutt- 
lingen is  a  committee  of  the  leading  citizens, 
who  are  prepared  to  receive  and  acknowledge 
contributions. 

Little  is  known  of  Schneckenburger.  He 
died  in  1849,  when  only  thirty  years  of  age. 
His  father  blacked  boots  and  lifted  trunks  in  a 
village  tavern  near  Tuttlingen,  but  was  obvi- 
ously of  superior  character,  for  he  eventually 
became  a  small  merchant  and  married  well. 
Max  did  not  go  to  the  university — his  father  was 
too  poor — but  in  Tuttlingen  he  was  thoroughly 
schooled,  and  then  sent  to  Switzerland,  where 
the  post  of  errand-boy  was  given  him  in  a  gro- 
cery store.  His  short  life  was  one  of  hard  work 


28  PADDLES    AND    POLITICS 

and  small  earnings,  far  from  his  beloved  father- 
land, and  seeing  of  the  world  only  what  ap- 
peared in  the  course  of  trips  made  as  a  com- 
mercial traveler.  His  widow  assures  us  that 
a  day  never  passed  that  Schneckenburger  did 


MAX     SCHNECKENBURGER, 

WHO   WROTE    "DIE   WACHT   AM   RHEIN  "    IK    1840,    WHEN    TWENTY-ONE 
YEARS   OF    AGE. 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  29 

not  kneel  in  prayer  for  his  fatherland;  and  his 
motto,  chosen  at  the  age  of  fifteen,  was  this 
word  alone,  "  Deutsch."  In  1840  he  wrote  "  Die 
Wacht  am  Rhein"  as  an  indignant  protest 
against  the  French  pretensions  of  that  time,  but 
the  battles  of  Gravelotte  and  Sedan  had  been 
fought  before  his  country  was  made  to  know 
the  source  of  their  inspiration.  Schnecken- 
burger  is  another  of  the  many  names  that  hu- 
manity loves  to  honor,  but  which,  alas  !  human- 
ity discovers  long  after  its  honor  has  ceased  to 
be  of  any  material  consequence. 

We  supped  in  Tuttlingen  while  our  boats 
were  hauled  up  by  the  river's  bank;  but  as  we 
supped,  Tuttlingen  assembled  to  see  us  start. 
We  shall  never  know  by  what  mysterious  agen- 
cy we  were  made  to  become  at  once  the  creat- 
ures of  fam& — and  in  the  very  shadow  of 
Schneckenburger  !  Was  it  the  contribution  to 
his  monument  ?  was  it  interest  in  the  American 
canoes  ?  was  it  the  hope  of  seeing  us  capsize  at 
the  big  dam  between  the  bridges  ?  I  believe 
that  the  love  of  Schneckenburger  made  all 
Tuttlingen  interested  in  us,  although  several 
kindly  Tuttlingers  warned  us  against  the  dam. 
At  any  rate,  as  we  paddled  off  in  the  twilight 
toward  the  roaring  that  indicated  the  fall  of  wa- 


3O  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

ter,  the  two  bridges  were  crowded  with  specta- 
tors, not  to  mention  the  sides  of  the  stream 
and  every  window.  We  had,  however,  already 
passed  five  dams,  and  therefore  felt  more  com- 
fortable than  might  have  been  the  case  liad  this 
been  our  first.  The  canoes  were  headed  for  a 
bunch  of  roots,  snags,  and  reeds  that  had  lodged 
on  the  crest  of  the  fall  about  the  middle  of  the 
stream:  we  jumped  out  here,  having  the  snags 
to  hold  on  to,  so  that  we  might  not  be  carried 
away  down  the  falls.  The  next  thing  to  do 
was  to  select  a  clean  bit  of  water  down  which 
to  shoot  the  boats,  while  we  held  in  our  hand 
the  end  of  a  painter  about  forty  feet  long.  The 
boats  did  their  part  well,  dived  prettily  into  the 
river  below,  drew  up  short  when  they  reached 
the  end  of  their  tether,  waited  patiently  until 
we  picked  our  way  carefully  from  stone  to  stone 
down  the  ragged  slope  of  the  dam  with  trou- 
sers tucked  above  the  knees,  and  finally  jumped 
along  merrily  when  we  \vere  safely  aboard. 

The  people  waved  hats  and  handkerchiefs 
when  we  passed  the  barrier,  and  wished  us 
"  Gliickliche  Reise."  We  replied  with  an  enthu- 
siastic cry  of  "  Schneckenburger  soil  hoch  le- 
ben  !  "  and  the  hills  rang  with  such  cheers  as 
had  never  before  gladdened  the  valleys  of  the 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  3! 

Black  Forest.  Men,  women,  and  children  ran 
along  the  banks  after  us,  wishing  happiness  to 
the  three  strangers  who  had  come  many  miles 
to  worship  at  the  shrine  of  Schneckenburger. 
That  night  we  drank  the  health  of  Tuttlingen's 
great  poet,  and  for  many  days  thereafter  our 
toast  remained  that  of  Tuttlingen:  "  Schneck- 
enburger soil  hoch  leben  !  " 

A  few  minutes  below  Tuttlingen  we  shot  our 
boats  over  another  dam — our  seventh — then 
hauled  them  up  in  a  fragrant  meadow  that 
formed  a  sharp  point  into  the  river,  sponged 
out  the  few  drops  of  water  that  had  come  into 
them,  and  lay  down  to  rest  in  the  bottom.  A 
pair  of  boots  rolled  up  in  an  odd  pair  of  trou- 
sers made  a  very  good  pillow;  an  ulster  was 
ready  in  case  the  night  became  colder;  an  In- 
dia-rubber blanket  was  also  at  hand  in  case 
of  rain;  the  monotonous  roar  of  the  waterfall 
dinned  pleasantly  upon  our  tired  senses,  to 
which  there  came,  later  on,  the  prattling  treble 
of  maidens'  voices  wondering  what  manner  of 
boats  these  were,  and  what  manner  of  men 
could  live  therein.  But  we  were  too  drowsy  to 
note  even  what  manner  of  maiden  had  come 
across  the  moonlit  meadows.  We  fell  asleep 
under  the  ruined  battlements  of  three  mediaj- 


32  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

val  castles — Wasserburg,  Luginsfeld,  and  Hon- 
berg,  of  which  the  minstrel  sings: 

"  No  banner  floats  upon  its  keep; 

No  warders  line  its  wall; 
The  shouts  of  war  and  wassail  sleep 

In  Honberg's  roofless  hall. 
The  furze  and  lichen  flourish  wild 

In  love's  neglected  bower, 
And  ruin  frowns  where  beauty  smiled 

In  Honberg's  lofty  tower." 

Here  was  the  place  to  dream  of  gallant 
knights  and  ladies  fair,  of  bloody  battlements 
and  ghostly  dungeons,  for  each  of  these  three 
castles  has  legends  enough  to  start  a  Walter 
Scott  with  raw  material.  We  cared  for  noth- 
ing save  close  communion  with  the  bottom 
boards  of  our  several  canoes  until  the  sun  burst 
upon  us  next  morning  from  over  the  opposite 
mountains. 

One  of  us — this  is  no  place  for  personalities, 
and  I  suppress  names — rather  favored  the  idea 
of  cooking  breakfast  in  the  boat  as  being  a  com- 
pact thing  to  do,  and  one  that  prevented  the 
cooking  vessels  from  being  lost.  With  this  ob- 
ject in  view  he  placed  the  spirit  stove  between 
his  knees  on  the  floor  of  the  canoe,  and  it  being 
a  very  powerful  double-action  one,  he  balanced 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  33 

the  coffee-machine  above  and  the  pot  of  hot 
milk  beneath,  the  idea  being  that  both  would 
come  to  the  boiling-point  at  about  the  same 
time.  Unfortunately  they  did,  and  with  an  ex- 
plosion that  could  not  be  escaped.  The  boil- 
ing coffee  sputtered  violently  out  at  the  top; 
the  milk  squirted  as  violently  below.  The  bare 
legs  of  the  experimenter,  to  say  nothing  of  his 
arms  and  other  parts  of  his  thinly-clad  person, 
were  savagely  scalded.  His  involuntary  antics 
to  escape  the  persistent  torrent  of  boiling  milk 
and  coffee  only  endangered  himself  and  boat 
still  more,  and  had  it  not  been  for  the  timely 
intervention  of  the  rest  of  the  party,  the  spirits 
would  have  gone  blazing  from  stem  to  stern, 
and  made  a  bonfire  of  boat  and  cargo.  That 
experiment  resulted  in  filling  every  cranny  of 
one  boat  with  coffee  grounds  and  milk,  and  im- 
pregnating everything  about  with  a  flavor  of 
these  misplaced  ingredients,  not  to  mention 
damage  done  by  scalding  the  experimenter. 
Henceforth,  it  is  needless  to  say,  our  kitchen 
was  in  the  open  air;  a  new  cook  was  appointed, 
the  old  cook  allowed  to  wipe  the  dishes,  and  all 
hands  have  gained  by  the  results  of  that  first  at- 
tempt to  cook  breakfast  for  three  between  two 
knees  in  the  bottom'  of  one  canoe. 


34  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

CHAPTER    III 

HOHENZOLLERN   CASTLE 

BY  7  o'clock  we  had  cooked  another  break- 
fast, disposed  of  it,  washed  and  wiped 
our  dishes,  packed  our  boats,  and  entered  upon 
the  second  day  of  the  journey — an  even  more 
interesting  one  than  the  first,  for  now  the 
mountains  close  in  tighter  upon  the  little  river, 
the  banks  are  rocky  and  run  up  sharp  from  the 
water's  edge.  Every  bend  is  the  opportunity 
for  a  castle,  and  as  these  were  built  about  a 
thousand  years  ago,  they  are  now  highly  pic- 
turesque if  not  practical  monuments.  The 
Rhine  suffers  seriously  in  comparison  with  the 
first  five  hundred  miles  of  the  Danube,  but  no- 
where more  than  in  this  neighborhood,  for  not 
only  has  the  Danube  ruins  as  striking  and  ex- 
tensive as  those  of  the  sister  stream,  but  she 
has  more  of  them.  And  what  in  our  eyes  adds 
still  more  to  the  charm  of  the  Danube  is  the 
virginal  character  of  its  rock  and  forest — a  rug- 
ged grandeur  not  yet  vulgarized  by  villas  and 
summer  lodging-houses — and  in  addition  the 


DOWN   THE   DANUBE  35 

picturesque  peasantry  whom  we  see  crowding 
the  bridges  at  noon,  laden  with  scythes,  rakes, 
and  forks,  stalking  like  an  army  of  rebellious 
rustics  out  into  the  hay-fields  after  their  mid- 
day dinner  in  the  village  home.  The  most  se- 
cluded part  of  the  Rhine  between  Mainz  and 
Bonn  has  about  it  the  flavor  of  being  prepared 
for  Saturday  afternoon  visitors;  is  infected  with 
suburbanism;  is  pretty,  but  painfully  self-con- 
scious. The  Danube,  on  the  other  hand,  is 
more  like  a  rustic  and  ruddy  nymph,  ignorant 
as  yet  of  her  charms.  She  disports  herself 
where  the  average  tourist  does  not  pass;  the 
Baedekers  and  Murrays  have  nothing  to  say  of 
her  many  secluded  nooks.  It  is  only  by  water 
that  her  charms  can  be  seen  to  advantage,  for 
at  times  her  banks  are  so  steep  and  rocky  that 
it  is  not  possible  to  build  a  foot-path  along  the 
edge  of  the  water. 

The  day  is  bright,  a  pleasant  breeze  playing 
in  the  leaves  as  we  paddle,  or  rather  drift  along; 
for  so  much  claims  our  attention  that  even  the 
current  is  too  rapid  for  us.  Kallenberg  Castle 
is  a  fine  square  ruin,  and  we  are  thinking  that 
it  is  better  in  its  way  than  the  Drachenfels  of 
the  Rhine,  when  Bronner  Castle  looms  up  more 
imposing  still.  Here  we  draw  ashore  for  a 


36  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

lunch  under  the  trees,  and  the  epicure  may  like 
to  know  that  it  consisted  entirely  of  cold  salmi 
sausage,  black  bread,  butter,  cold  milk,  and 
bottled  beer.  The  dietarian  may  also  care  to 
to  hear  that  we  were  none  the  worse  in  con- 
sequence. 

This  is  a  day  of  castles;  each  turn  brings  us 
to  one,  and  each  is  more  striking  than  the  other. 
Wildenstein,  Wernwag,  Hausen,  Falkenstein — 
these  are  some  of  the  more  stiking  ones  that 
greet  us,  ending  with  the  ruins  of  Dietfurt,  be- 
low which  we  pitch  our  second  camp.  Each 
castle  is  in  itself  material  for  an  exhaustive 
chapter.  The  fine  elevation  of  rock  and  forest; 
the  little  clustering  village;  the  old  bridge, 
with  the  statue  or  image  of  a  saint  over  the 
middle  arch;  the  massive  church,  that  seems 
to  have  been  built  originally  as  a  fortress;  the 
ruin  itself,  with  its  history  of  by-gone  sieges 
and  quaint  childish  legends — all  these  made  us 
wish  to  stop  for  a  week  or  so  at  each  hamlet, 
sketch  every  courtyard,  trace  every  legend, 
measure  every  stone.  And  most  of  all  did  we 
wish  to  stay  in  dear  little  Gutenstein,  at  the 
"  Gasthaus  zur  Sonne,"  with  its  jolly  fat  host, 
its  round  little  panes  of  glass,  its  black-oak 
timbers,  its  low  ceiling,  its  venerable  benches 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  37 

and  tables,  the  talkative  locksmith,  whose  little 
daughter  slept  in  his  lap  while  he  sipped  his 
beer,  and  who  told  us  that  his  wife  was  making 
hay  while  he  looked  out  for  the  shop — a  veri- 
table Rip  Van  Winkle,  who  no  doubt  got  his 
deserts  when  his  Gretchen  came  home.  The 
fat  host  wished  us  "Prosit!"  as  he  banged 
each  well-filled  mug  before  us;  his  wife  wished 
us  a  good  digestion  as  she  brought  us  three 
huge  pancakes  steaming  hot  from  the  kitchen. 
"  God  greet  you !"  was  the  welcome  we  had 
received  on  entering;  and  the  good  old  man 
waddled  all  the  way  down  to  the  water's  edge 
to  see  us  off  and  wave  us  his  wish  for  a  "  happy 
journey."  Here  was  a  host  after  our  own  heart; 
he  treated  us  as  part  of  his  household,  laughed 
at  our  jokes,  and  would  have  wept  with  us  had 
we  wished  him  to.  Yet  we  had  to  leave. 

The  next  day  we  are  up  and  off  early  again, 
after  a  refreshing  sleep  in  our  boats,  a  dip  in 
the  river,  and  a  good  breakfast  cooked  in  camp. 
Yesterday's  scenery  seems  to  us  too  good  to 
be  matched,  but  the  experience  of  our  third 
day  teaches  us  that  the  most  beautiful  is  always 
one  step  beyond. 

Leaving  the  camp  near  Dietfurt  at  7,  the 
river  hurries  us  along  several  exhilarating 


146030 


38  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

rapids,  then  makes  one  or  two  sharp  curves, 
passes  between  perpendicular  rocks,  and  into 
what  might  be  a  very  deep  lake,  surrounded  by 
bold  and  bewitching  banks,  suggesting  a  little 
Yosemite  Valley — a  very  little  one  indeed,  but 
still  impressive.  Here  and  there  is  room  for  a 
patch  of  meadow,  where  bright  peasant  maidens 
are  tossing  the  hay  about,  and  these  lend  an 
agreeable  contrast  to  the  great  rock  walls  and 
the  forest-capped  peaks  that  appear  beyond. 
The  boat  drifts  lazily  along  here,  for  the  cur- 
rent has  been  mysteriously  absorbed.  The 
nooks  in  the  rocks  abound  with  flowers  whose 
brightness  is  reflected  in  the  water  with  ex- 
quisite effect.  We  are  now  on  Prussian  terri- 
tory, and  here  is  the  park  of  the  Hohenzollern 
prince  whose  candidacy  for  the  Spanish  throne 
was  made  by  France  the  excuse  for  war  in  1870. 
A  few  miles  more  and  we  are  at  Sigmaringen, 
another  imposing  castle  on  a  height  of  great 
strategic  value,  above  a  pretty  little  town,  clean 
and  picturesque.  We  have  left  behind  us  the 
Grand  Duchy  of  Baden,  and  are  passing  through 
Hohenzollern,  now  associated  with  the  present 
greatness  of  the  German  Empire.  For  a  thou- 
sand years  the  name  has  been  borne  by  a  race 
of  fighters  whose  lances  and  battle-axes  have 


DOWN    THE   DANUBE 


39 


given  way  to  magazine  rifles  and  the  methods 
of  Moltke.  The  name  has  been  carried  far 
from  the  little  Danube  country — northward  to 
the  Russian  border, 
and  to  Holland ;  to 
the  west  it  has  thrown 
its  arms  around  Stras- 
burg ;  and  eastward 
it  has  driven  the  Holy 
Roman  Empire  to  be- 
yond the  centre  of 
German  influence. 

The  castle  to  which 
all  the  branches  of 
this  much  -  divided 
stock  look,  as  to  the 
ancestral  home,  lies 
a  few  miles  from  Sig- 
maringen,  the  road 
winding  along  a  tum- 
bling brook,  whose 
mouth  is  near  the  foot 
of  the  ruins  of  Diet- 

furt  Castle,  to  a  point  where  the  water  on  one 
side  flows  to  the  Danube,  and  on  the  other  into 
the  Rhine. 

In  the  broad  valley  shortly  beyond  this  point 


THE  DAY  ON  WHICH  I  CLIMBED  TO 
THE  TOP  OF  HOHENZOLLERN  CAS- 
TLE WAS  VERY  WARM. 


4O  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS      • 

rises  a  solitary  peak  crowned  with  the  battle- 
ments of  Burg  Hohenzollern.  For  miles  on 
every  side  it  is  the  most  striking  feature  of  the 
country,  and  rising  as  it  does  straight  up  out 
of  a  great  plain,  and  commanding  an  unob- 
structed view  of  all  surrounding  approaches,  it 
represented,  down  to  our  century,  a  military 
position  readily  appreciated. 

It  has  been  twice  in  ruins,  and  twice  built  up 
again  by  the  united  efforts  of  all  the  family.  The 
present  castle  was  commenced  in  1850,  with  a 
view  not  merely  of  preserving  the  cradle  of  the 
Prussian  kings,  but  equally  to  represent  in  South 
Germany  a  military  stronghold  of  some  value. 
While,  therefore,  the  architect  has  been  given  a 
free  hand,  in  order  to  make  the  outward  appear- 
ance harmonize  with  the  geographical  situa- 
tion, all  the  requirements  of  modern  warfare 
have  been  taken  into  account  in  the  construc- 
tion of  the  massive  zigzag  of  defensive  wall. 

A  company  of  infantry  were  tramping  out  to 
drill  as  we  came  under  the  walls,  which  made 
us  rather  wonder  where  they  could  all  find 
standing-room  together  for  the  purpose,  until 
we  discovered  a  little  terrace  cut  out  of  the 
side  of  the  slope,  somewhat  like  the  one  on  the 
Quebec  citadel. 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  4! 

The  day  was  hot,  our  coats  were  off,  our 
waistcoats  loose,  and  sleeves  rolled  up  as  we 
sought  the  public  room  of  the  castle,  where 
a  retired  sergeant  provided  mediocre  food  at 
rather  high  prices. 

Of  course  the  "Kastellan"  showed  us  the 
castle,  but  the  rooms  being  modern,  the  in- 
terest is  rather  with  historic  association  than 
with  the  objects  themselves,  precious  as  many 
of  them  are.  The  present  Emperor  has  not 
visited  the  place  since  his  advent  to  the  throne, 
and  it  has  never  been  much  lived  in  by  any  of 
the  royal  family.  A  reason  naturally  suggests 
itself  in  the  distance  from  Berlin,  the  smallness 
of  the  space  available  for  an  imperial  suite, 
and  the  absence  of  entertainment  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. 

Hohenzollern  is  by  far  the  most  complete 
and  imposing  castle  on  our  line  of  progress,  as 
well  as  the  most  interesting  historically.  Wiir- 
temberg  had  the  audacity  to  occupy  it  with  her 
army  in  1866,  supposing,  of  course,  that  Prus- 
sia was  no  match  for  Austria,  and  that  Hohen- 
zollern would  ultimately  fall  to  her  share,  but 
for  this  enterprise  she  has  paid  heavily. 


42  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

CHAPTER  IV 

DAMS   AND   RAPIDS 

FROM  Sigmarimjen  on  we  have  a  rare  treat 
in  the  way  of  exhilarating  rapids,  though 
at  no  time  did  we  meet  any  water  that  could  be 
called  dangerous,  or  any  rocks  that  were  not 
readily  perceived  and  avoided.  Rapids  and 
dams  always  give  the  canoeist  fair  warning  by 
making  great  noise,  and  if  there  is  any  reason 
to  anticipate  difficulty  it  is  wise  to  step  ashore 
and  reconnoitre  before  getting  into  the  troubled 
water,  unless,  as  occasionally  happens,  the 
whole  situation  can  be  taken  in  by  standing  up 
in  the  boat. 

None  of  us  paddled  over  more  than  four  dams, 
and  at  each  of  these  the  canoe  attempting  it 
got  a  bump  or  two  on  the  rocks.  As  a  rule  we 
stepped  out  into  the  water  on  the  edge,  gave 
the  boat  a  long  line,  and  let  her  jump  the  dam 
where  the  water  seemed  freest  from  obstruc- 
tion. Perhaps  this  method  is  not  quite  free 
from  risk,  but  it  is  sufficiently  so  for  the  canoe- 
ist. 


DOWN   THE   DANUBE  43 

At  Riedlingen  (our  sixteenth  dam),  for  in- 
stance, one  of  the  boats  sticks  fast  half-way 
down,  and  threatens  to  swing  around  broad- 
side on.  There  is  nothing  to  do  but  jump  in  to 
the  rescue,  which  in  this  case  means  wading  in 
water  that  is  very  cold  and  reaches  above  the 
waist.  But  the  canoe  is  not  hurt.  Of  course 
the  canoeist  wears  no  shoes  and  stockings  in 
the  boat,  and  is  otherwise  prepared  for  jumping 
into  the  water  at  short  notice. 

Our  third  night  is  rainy,  our  camp  in  a  mead- 
ow immediately  below  a  picturesque  little  place 
called  Zell.  Although  our  tents  are  awaiting 
us  in  Ulm,  we  manage  to  spend  a  fairly  com- 
fortable night  by  stretching  a  rubber  blanket 
over  the  well  of  the  canoe  and  protecting  our 
heads  with  a  straw  hat.  At  four  next  morning 
our  chef  member  gives  us  a  splendid  breakfast 
of  hot  coffee,  boiling  milk,  fried  bacon,  bread 
and  butter,  which,  after  a  dip  in  the  Danube, 
quite  restores  our  spirits,  and  sends  us  merrily 
bobbing  along  down  stream  to  revel  once  more 
in  a  day  of  rapids,  castles,  monasteries,  dams, 
and  haymakers. 

Near  Zwiefaltendorf  Castle,  another  massive 
ruin,  a  few  minutes  below  camp,  are  a  number 
of  cascades  that  come  tumbling  into  the  Dan- 


44 


PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 


ube  through  a  tangled  wild  of  shrubberry,  rocks 
and  exquisite  flowers — a  mass  of  roaring  foam 
about  which  the  most  delicate  vegetation  clus- 
ters as  though  quite  used  to  the  blustering  of 
the  waterfall.  This  little  bit  alone  would  make 
famous  any  neighborhood  where  tourists  resort, 


BY  STANDING  UP  IN  THE  CANOE  IT  IS  SOMETIMES  POSSIBLE  TO  LOOK  OVER 
THE  EDGE  AND  JUDGE  WHETHER  IT  IS  SAFE  OR  NOT  TO  SHOOT  THE 
DAM  OR  WEIR. 

but  on  the  Danube  it  is  only  one  of  the  hundred 
delights  in  store  for  the  patient  traveler. 

Our  seventeenth  dam  is  under  the  ruins  of 
the  castle  of  Rechtenstein,  of  which  there  still 
remain  the  walls  of  a  massive  square  tower. 
One  of  us  is  intently  admiring  this  castle  while 
passing  his  boat  over  the  dam,  when  his  paint- 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  45 

er  gives  a  tug  that  nearly  carries  him  off  his 
legs.  The  canoe  has  pivoted  on  a  rock;  the 
double-bladed  paddle  has  been  caught  by  the 
rush  of  the  stream,  torn  from  its  fastening  on 
deck,  and  is  madly  careering  down  the  torrent. 
Here  is  another  occasion  when  moments  are 
precious,  for  that  paddle  must  be  overtaken  be- 
fore the  next  dam,  or  be  lost  forever. 

How,  exactly,  that  canoeist  righted  his  boat, 
got  into  her,  and  off,  he  can  scarcely  recall. 
The  slope  of  the  dam  was  made  up  of  slippery 
rocks,  difficult  to  find,  and  still  more  difficult 
to  hold  on  to,  yet  the  paddle  was  overtaken  just 
in  the  nick  of  time.  And  this  is  an  experience 
that  has  convinced  our  party,  at  least,  that  it  is 
worth  while  carrying  a  spare  paddle. 

In  a  few  minutes,  however,  we  are  under 
another  feudal  castle,  the  well-preserved  tow- 
ers of  Ober  Marchthal,  and  here,  at  our  eight- 
eenth dam,  one  of  us  again  narrowly  escapes 
shipwreck,  for  we  find  the  fall  not  an  easy  one. 
One  of  the  boats  took  the  plunge  at  the  right- 
hand  side  of  the  dam,  near  the  mill,  and  found 
the  shoot  so  strong  and  steep  as  to  bury  not 
only  her  bow  but  a  good  part  of  the  rest  of  her 
under  water;  and  to  add  to  the  awkwardness 
of  the  situation,  she  was  caught  in  an  eddy  and 


46  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

jammed  up  against  the  side  of  the  mill  wall, 
from  which  issued  several  miniature  cascades 
that  played  into  the  well  of  the  boat.  This 
could  not  be  endured.  Yet  the  dam  was  a  bad 
one  to  creep  down.  Luckily  two  millers  came 
to  the  rescue.  They  brought  a  long  pole  that 
reached  from  the  top  of  the  wall  to  near  the 
edge  of  the  water;  down  this  pole  the  canoe 
skipper  dropped,  while  the  millers  held  fast  the 
upper  end,  and  the  canoe  was  rescued  at  the 
expense  only  of  a  good  ducking  to  both  crew 
and  cargo.  From  our  day's  experience.we  de- 
termined henceforward  never  to  shoot  a  dam 
without  having  our  two  forward  deck  hatches 
on  and  our  paddles  stowed  below. 

But  we  are  soon  to  have  done  with  dams,  for 
at  noon  of  the  fourth  day  we  pass  the  last  one 
at  Oepfingen,  marked  as  the  twenty-fifth  dam 
in  some  books  of  travel,  but  rated  by  us  only 
as  the  twenty-first.  We  have  obviously  passed 
over  several  that  we  treated  as  rapids,  for  by 
repeated  calculation  we  have  been  unable  to 
discover  more  than  the  number  mentioned. 
Let  us  add  parenthetically  that  we  had  excel- 
lent high  water. 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  47 

CHAPTER   V 

THE    FORTRESS    OF   ULM 

THE  spire  of  Ulm  minster  is  before  us  now; 
the  river  widens  on  receiving  the  cold, 
clear,  pale  green  Alpine  waters  of  the  Iller  close 
above  the  town;  the  outlying  forts  appear  on 
our  left;  soon  the  town  walls,  with  the  concom- 
itants of  a  first-class  German  fortress — the  bu- 
gle call,  drum  roll,  march,- march  of  a  pontoon 
detachment.  We  rush  under  the  railway  bridge; 
one  of  us  nearly  runs  down  a  bathing  establish- 
ment; and  at  last,  after  four  days  of  primitive 
Black  Forest  stream  life,  we  pull  up  at  the  float 
of  the  first  rowing  club  on  the  river,  justly 
named  the  Danube  Rowing  Club. 

The  committee  of  the  club  have  made  us 
their  guests  during  our  stay,  and  leave  nothing 
undone  to  confirm  in  us  our  regard  for  the  Ger- 
man sportsman.  The  club  at  Ulm  has  a  dozen 
good  racing  and  practice  boats,  singles,  doubles 
and  fours,  some  made  in  England,  some  in 
Frankfort.  The  quarters  are  adequate  and 
tastefully  decorated,  though  the  club  suffers 


48  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

from  having  no  boat-builder  in  the  town  itself, 
being  obliged  therefore  to  send  along  distance 
for  repairs — at  least  as  far  as  Frankfort.  We 
discovered,  however,  that  the  president,  in  ad- 
dition to  being  one  of  the  crack  oarsmen  of  Ger- 
many, is  no  less  famous  as  a  mechanical  genius, 
and  we  can  never  adequately  express  the  grat- 
itude our  party  feels  toward  him  for  helping  us 
put  our  boats  into  good  shape  after  the  batter- 
ing they  had  received  in  these  past  four  days 
of  dams,  rocks,  and  rapids. 

Ulm  is  a  most  interesting  town  to  explore — 
full  of  quaint  steep  gables,  crooked  little 
streets,  houses  that  nod  across  the  way  to  one 
another,  five  centuries  crowded  together  in  as 
many  acres  of  stone  and  timber,  and  often 
crowded  to  death;  for  the  town  chronicle  tells 
us  that  in  1635  15,000  of  the  people  died,  that  in 
1800  every  eleventh  man  was  carried  away  by 
disease,  yet  100  years  ago  the  town  numbered 
less  than  14,000,  and  to-day  only  about  double 
that  number.  Now,  with  a  Prussian  command- 
er, the  sanitary  condition  of  the  place  is  prop- 
erly attended  to,  although,  from  a  commercial 
point  of  view,  the  town  suffers  considerably 
from  having  all  the  space  before  its  walls  sub- 
ject to  the  rules  of  war — no  one  can  build  with- 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  49 

in  cannon  range  unless  he  promises  to  tear  his 
building  down  when  war  begins.  This  is  nat- 
urally discouraging  to  manufacturers. 

Before  the  voyages  of  Columbus,  Ulm  num- 
bered 50,000  prosperous  people,  and  she  is  the 
first  town  of  the  Danube  that  can  say  that  her 
prosperity  as  a  town  was  ruined  by  the  discov- 
ery of  America.  It  seems  strange,  at  this  day 
and  in  this  place,  to  think  of  this  little  for- 
tress as  being  a  great  port  for  the  trade  of  the 
East,  and  yet  so  it  was.  Cargo  boats  went  down 
from  here  to  the  Black  Sea,  carrying  the  manu- 
factures of  western  Europe,  and  bringing  back 
the  treasures  of  the  East,  even  from  China;  but 
all  this  came  to  an  end  with  the  dis'coveries  of 
Columbus,  and  the  diversion  of  Eastern  trade 
around  the  capes. 

Ulm  is  famous  also  for  having  witnessed  one 
of  the  most  extensive  and  disgraceful  surrenders 
in  this  century — a  century,  by-thc-way,  par- 
ticularly marked  by  great  surrenders.  On  the 
2Oth  of  October,  1805,  the  notorious  Austrian 
commander  Mack,  followed  by  sixteen  generals 
and  36,000  men,  marched  out  as  prisoners  of 
Napoleon,  who  had  on  this  occasion  routed, 
killed,  or  taken  prisoner  90,000  men,  with  a 
loss  to  himself  of  scarcely.  1,500.  It  was,  I  be- 


50  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

lieve,  in  consequence  of  the  number  of  prison- 
ers taken  by  the  French  in  this  campaign — over 
50,000  — that  Napoleon  adopted  the  plan  of  dis- 
tributing them  amongst  the  farmers  in  the  in- 
terior of  France,  in  order  to  make  up  for  the 
conscripts  he  had  called  out. 

It  would  be  interesting  to  know  exactly 
how  much  Napoleon  owed  to  his  talent  as  a 
soldier,  and  how  much  to  his  good  fortune  in 
having  had  against  him  men  of  inferior  capac- 
ity; for  of  Mack  he  wrote,  six  years  before  the 
campaign  of  1805,  "  A  man  of  the  lowest  medi- 
ocrity I  ever  saw  in  my  life."  He  was  never 
able  to  use  such  language  of  Wellington,  Gneis- 
enau,  Bliicher,  or  Scharnhorst;  and  had  he  met 
them  when  First  Consul,  there  would  have  been 
no  Mack  and  no  Austerlitz  in  1805. 

But  Ulm  has  another  feature  more  glorious 
than  any  that  war  has  created — a  Protestant 
minster  rising  from  out  of  this  city  of  wars  and 
sieges.  For  many  miles  around,  this  mostgrace- 
ful  as  well  as  most  lofty  spire  is  a  conspicuous 
landmark,  protesting  as  a  sacred  messenger 
against  the  barbarous  battlements  within  which 
it  is  confined.  We  naturally  spent  much  of  our 
time  in  this  splendid  church,  listening  to  the 
music  of  the  great  organ,  entranced  by  the  ar- 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  51 

chitectural  illusion  of  the  vast  Gothic  pile,  the 
infinity  of  depth  and  height  suggested  by  the 
multitudinous  pillars,  the  soft  caressing  light 
from  the  stained-glass  windows,  the  solemn  re- 
pose that  falls  upon  every  object  within  its 
spell;  and  then  ! — to  step  outside  into  the  city 
of  mines  and  counter-mines,  of  powder  maga- 
zines and  Krupp  guns,  to  walk  the  streets  where 
every  fourth  man  is  a  soldier  and  the  rest  liable 
to  service — the  idea  is  revolting.  And  yet 
Ulm  is  not  exceptional:  are  not  Strasburg  and 
Cologne  two  German  fortresses  ? 

In  taking  leave  of  Ulm  we  leave  behind  us 
the  river  of  the  dam  and  paddle,  and  enter  upon 
the  stream  whose  flow  is  interrupted  by  nothing 
more  serious  than  a  few  rapids  and  whirlpools, 
and  is  consequently  to  us  the  Danube  of  sail  as 
well  as  paddle.  Our  departure  from  the  float 
of  theDonau  "  Ruderverein  "  was  attended  with 
every  circumstance  calculated  to  stimulate  the 
vanity  of  men  less  modest  than  canoeists.  For 
the  members  laid  aside  their  business,  congre- 
gated at  the  club-house,  raised  their  glasses 
collectively  and  individually  in  our  honor,  ex- 
pressed warm  affection  for  the  President  of  the 
United  States,  joined  in  toasting  the  Queen  of 
England,  and  drank  perpetual  concord  among 


52  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

the  three  nations  we  represented.  The  Royal 
Canoe  Club  of  London,  the  New  York  Canoe 
Club,  the  Ruder-club  Donau,  each  in  turn  was 
made  the  subject  of  enthusiastic  eulogy  and  the 
pretext  for  another  "Kriigerl  ";  and  we  are  quite 
sure  that  if  the  sentiments  expressed  by  the 
boating  men  who  gathered  together  on  that  oc- 
casion are  any  test  of  the  general  feeling  of  the 
three  countries  theyrepresented,  then  Germany 
has  in  England  and  the  United  States  a  triple  al- 
liance compared  to  which  that  with  Austria  and 
Italy  is  as  a  bond  of  straw. 

We  tore  ourselves  away;  not  that  there  was 
no  more  beer  in  Ulm,  or  that  our  list  of  toasts 
was  exhausted,  but  it  was  already  late  in  the 
afternoon,  and  time  was  precious.  So,  hoist- 
ing sail  for  the  first  time,  and  giving  three 
hearty  parting  cheers,  we  turned  our  bows  out 
into  the  swift  current  and  shot  down  toward 
the  middle  arch  of  the  stone  bridge.  We  were 
accompanied  by  two  members,  who  very 
cleverly  paddled  a  square-sided,  fiat-bottomed 
canoe,  built  only  for  one,  and  which  rested 
dangerously  low  in  the  water.  The  supernu- 
merary paddler  sat  on  deck  immediately  be- 
hind his  mate,  and  both  managed  very  skill- 
fully. Like  all  Germans,  these  two  were 


DOWN   THE   DANUBE  53 

expert  swimmers,  or  the  sport  would  have 
been  risky  in  such  a  stream. 

At  Giinzburg  we  went  ashore  for  supper, 
and  entertained  our  German  escort.  They 
sent  their  canoe  back  to  Ulm  at  a  cost  of  fifty 
pfennigs,  or  twelve  cents,  and  had  no  more 
trouble  until  they  got  back  to  the  railway  sta- 
tion—a very  convenient  arrangement  indeed, 
it  struck  us.  For,  so  far  as  our  experience 
goes,  the  canoeist  is  better  treated  in  Germany 
than  in  America  or  England;  the  fares  are 
low,  and  the  boats  carefully  handled.  We 
sent  our  boats,  for  instance,  from  Flushing  to 
Donaueschingen — from  the  western  edge  of 
Holland  to  the  Black  Forest — a  distance  of 
about  450  miles,  for  12.90  marks  each,  or  about 
$3.25.  The  boats  arrived  without  a  scratch, 
although  they  were  not  crated. 

Giinzburg  was  our  first  landing  in  Bavaria; 
we  left  Wiirtemberg  behind  with  Ulm,  to  say 
nothing  of  Baden  and  Prussia  before  that. 
We  seemed  indeed  to  be  doing  quick  work,  to 
cross  in  four  days  as  many  frontiers,  and  in  no 
quicker  boat  than  a  canoe.  The  change,  too, 
was  complete  ;  the  peasants  became  more 
conservative  in  clinging  to  their  broad  hats 
and  metal  buttons.  Everv  house  had  a  niche 


54  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

in  which  the  gaudily  painted  image  of  a  saint 
reposed  ;  and  in  the  guest  room  of  the  tavern 
our  beer  was  sipped  beneath  a  crucifix  that 
reached  from  the  ceiling  to  the  window-sill. 
In  the  gateway  of  the  town  wall  a  lamp  burned 
night  and  day  before  the  Virgin  Mary.  On  all 
sides  was  the  evidence  of  complete  devotion  to 
religion. 

In  this  place,  full  of  quaint  bits  of  mediaeval 
architecture,  we  had  supper  of  gulash  and 
beer,  a  few  more  toasts  to  the  pretty  Kellnerin, 
to  the  "  Watch  on  the  Rhine,"  to  German 
oarsmen,  and  to  the  family  of  storks  that  had 
their  well-poised  nest  on  the  steep  gable  over 
the  way,  and  who  peered  curiously  in  the  di- 
rection of  three  little  canoes  which  three  un- 
Bavarian-looking  men  had  left  in  charge  of 
the  bathing-master  of  Giinzburg.  We  parted 
shortly  before  the  last  light  had  faded  from 
the  long  day.  Our  German  friends  took  the 
train  to  Ulin.  We  paddled  out  into  the  broad 
rushing  stream,  and  pitched  our  camp  on  a 
little  point  of  meadow-land  just  large  enough 
to  accommodate  the  boats  comfortably,  with  a 
grove  of  trees  between  us  and  the  world  of 
possible  disturbers. 


DOWN   THE   DANUBE  55 

CHAPTER    VI 

A   RARE   OLD    TOWN    IN     BAVARIA 

WE  had  at  last  the  luxury  of  tents,  Not 
such  as  are  used  on  shore,  that  smell 
of  fermented  grass  and  mud;  that  require  a 
dozen  pegs  and  awkward  poles;  that  are 
clumsy  to  rig  and  clumsier  still  to  stow  away. 
No;  our  tents  do  not  touch  the  ground  at  all; 
come  in  contact  with  nothing  but  what  is  clean. 
The  top  is  hung  between  the  foremast  and  the 
mizzen;  the  sides  fall  gracefully  about  the  well 
of  the  canoe,  and  are  buttoned  at  convenient 
intervals  along  the  edges.  The  top  is  so  high 
that  the  canoeist  sits  comfortably  on  his  floor, 
can  read  and  write,  sketch,  or  mend  his  trou- 
sers, and  when  he  lies  down  to  sleep,  secures 
such  a  pleasant  circulation  of  air  as  no  land- 
tenter  ever  had.  Sleeping  in  his  boat,  the 
moisture  of  the  ground  does  not  affect  him; 
nor  need  he  feel  nervous  in  regard  to  ants, 
beetles,  earwigs,  scorpions,  and  the  many  rest- 
less insects  that  delight  in  camps;  not  even  a 
mosquito  can  get  at  him.  For  the  sides  of  this 


56  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

tent  are  of  two  different  materials — one  of 
"cheese-cloth,"  that  excludes  mosquitoes  and 
admits  the  air;  the  other  of  duck,  that  protects 
against  bad  weather.  Each  can  be  used  in 
turn,  or  both  together,  according  to  circum- 
stances. 

From  behind  our  tent  we  snapped  our  fin- 
gers at  the  murderous  mosquito  music,  and  fell 
asleep  to  wake  at  four  next  morning.  And  if 
ever  the  early  bird  found  profit,  here  was  a 
case  in  point,  for  on  this  morning  we  reached 
Lauingen — a  place  of  importance  when  this 
stream  was  the  frontier  of  the  Roman  Empire, 
and  when  Caesar's  legions  ruled  along  the  Rhine 
and  Danube  as  do  those  of  England  along  the 
Indus  and  the  Ganges.  The  place  to-day  pre- 
serves interesting  traces  of  every  century  of  our 
era,  and  that  artist  must  be  hard  to  please  who 
could  not  spend  a  useful  summer  here  with  a 
white  umbrella  and  a  box  of  colors.  The 
houses  of  the  town  have  had  difficulty  in  finding 
standing-room  within  the  huge  walls;  many  of 
the  streets  are  narrower  than  our  sidewalks, 
and  even  these  have  their  sky  obscured  by 
many-tiered  buildings, whose  successive  stories 
neach  out  foot  by  foot  above  one's  head.  The 
old  town  wall  is  almost  .hidden  by  the  dwell- 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE 


57 


ings  that  have  overrun  it  like  creeping  plants 
— the  citizens  living  in  it,  under  it,  on  it, 
and  against  it.  Hardly  a  corner  that  is  not 
worth  a  study,  hardly  a  house  that  would  not 
give  material  for  a  chapter.  It  was  a  very  rich 
town  once,  and  its  burghers  men  of  taste,  who, 
like  those  of  Venice,  spent  their  wealth  in 


Caribfe  is  HAULED  UP  ON  SHORE   FOR   THE   NIGHT  ;    THE  CANOE   TENT  is 

RIGGED,  AND   THIv  SKIPPER    IS   MAKING   A    FEW    NOTES   BY  CANDLE   LIGHT 
BEFOKE   LYING   DOWN   TO   SLEEP. 


splendid 
their  city 


houses    and 
famous. 


monuments   that   made 


Lauingen  suggests  one  of  the  once  rich  cities 
of  northern  Italy,  the  creation  of  merchant 
princes  who  thought  no  tax  too  heavy  if  it 
made  their  home  more  beautiful,  and  amidst 


58  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

whom  to  be  an  alderman  was  to  be  an  artist  as 
well  as  a  patriot.  Facing  the  central  square  is 
a  town  hall  of  noble  and  harmonious  propor- 
tions, fit  to  embellish  a  great  capital;  on  one 
side,  a  lofty  clock  tower  that  would  lose  noth- 
ing of  its  effect  were  it  in  Florence  and  called 
a  campanile.  Ancient  and  noble  mansions  are 
here  in  abundance,  each  with  its  carvings  and 
massive  arches,  reminding  the  spectator  of  a 
greatness  that  is  past.  And  to  complete  this 
picture  of  beyond  the  Alps,  there  runs  along 
one  side  a  stone  arcade,  whose  well-carved  pil- 
lars and  arches  shield  the  pedestrian  from  the 
sun  and  rain. 

Lauingen  gave  birth,  at  the  end  of  the 
twelfth  century,  to  a  man  whose  mechanical 
talent  \vould  to-day  have  led  him  to  discover  a 
simpler  method  of  telegraphing  or  a  cheaper 
fuel  than  coal,  and  have  made  him  the  honor- 
ary member  of  leaded  societies.  This  was 
Albertus  Magnus,  one  of  whose  pupils  was 
Thomas  Aquinas.  A  mass  of  stories  is  still 
current  of  the  extraordinary  things  he  made; 
for  instance,  an  automaton  which  could  move 
and  speak,  and  which  one  of  his  pious  pupils 
afterward  destroyed,  thinking  he  was  thereby 
serving  God  and  spiting  the  devil.  We  know 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  59 

of  him  nothing  but  legends,  and  these  prove 
only  that  he  understood  the  forces  of  nature 
better  than  the  people  who  denounced  him. 
He  once  entertained  his  emperor  with  fruit 
produced  in  the  midst  of  winter,  which  to  his 
generation  was  abundant  evidence  that  he  was 
in  league  with  the  evil  spirit. 

In  our  day,  however,  the  town  has  sought  to 
atone  for  past  neglect  by  erecting  in  the  beau- 
tiful market-place  a  bronze  statue  worthy  of 
the  first  scholar  of  his  day  as  well  as  of  Lauing- 
en's  early  fame. 

The  scenery  from  Ulm  downward,  though 
offering  no  striking  elevations,  is  anything  but 
dull.  The  effect  of  long  flat  reaches  of  water 
or  meadow  is  always  suggestive  and  full  of 
varied  color;  the  sky  seems  to  unfold  more  ot 
its  mysteries  to  us  then.  Or  is  it  that  our  at- 
tention is  less  diverted  by  nearer  objects  ? 
But  no  part  of  the  Danube  can  be  monotonous 
when  moving  in  tiny  canoes  that  feel  the  twist 
of  every  eddy,  that  dance  to  the  music  of 
every  rapid,  that  rush  with  impetuous  zeal 
down  slopes  of  pale  green  shallows,  and  that 
narrowly  escape  being  sucked  into  the  back 
current  at  the  river  corners.  Let  us  admit 
that  the  Danube  can  be  grander  at  some  points 


60  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

than  others,  but  uninteresting — never.  Even 
with  an  overcast  sky,  the  effect  produced  by 
moving  with  a  volume  of  water  so  vast,  so  ir- 
resistible, must  be  ever  impressive — something 
like  that  produced  by  the  never-changing,  yet 
never  the  same,  waves  of  the  ocean.  So  one 
with  the  river  had  our  canoes  become  that  we 
scarcely  noted  the  rapidity  with  which  the 
landscape  shifted,  until  we  sought  to  mark 
down  the  features  of  a  castle,  or  one  of  the 
huge  water-mills,  whose  wheel  hung  between 
two  anchored  barges,  and  whose  plash-plash 
paddle  sound  warned  us  against  collision. 
The  note-book  of  Alfred  Parsons  mentions 
that  along  this  flat  reach,  "for  a  long  way 
above  and  below  Ulm,  the  banks  are  lined 
with  small  willows  and  coarse  grasses;  oc- 
casional bunches  of  forget-me-not  and  some 
iris  and  valerian  are  the  only  flowers.  On  a 
hill-side  below  Donauworth,  I  saw  bright  pink 
dogroses,  campanulas,  geranium,  veronica, 
epipactis,  Turk's-cap  lilies,  pink  coronilla, 
which  is  abundant,  and  a  tall  white  composite 
with  groups  of  daisy-like  flowers  and  a  leaf 
like  the  tansy;  also  a  white  erigeron." 

The  river  here,  and  all  the  way  to  the  moun- 
tains of  eastern  Bavaria,  is  sought  to  be  "  reg- 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  6l 

ulated "  by  the  construction  of  stone  dikes 
intended  to  keep  the  main  channel  clear,  and 
prevent  in  a  measure  the  consequences  of 
floods.  We  were  favored  with  fairly  high 
water,  however,  and  the  dikes  were  therefore 
not  so  high  but  that  we  could  occasionally  get 
a  glimpse  of  the  meadows  from  our  decks. 
From  Hochstadt  to  Donauworth  we  passed 
ground  which  in  1704  was  the  scene  of  the  bat- 
tle of  Blenheim,  so  called  after  the  little  village 
of  Blindheim,  about  two  and  a  half  miles  north- 
east of  Hochstadt.  It  "was  a  glorious  vic- 
tory." It  did  Europe  the  doubtful  service  of 
propping  up  the  Hapsburg  dynasty  for  a  few 
years,  and  made  England  forget  all  about 
treacherous  Jack  Churchill  by  directing  her 
attention  to  the  great  Duke  of  Maryborough. 
The  pompous  lines  of  Addison  have  helped  to 
make  respectable  the  butchery  of  that  day  by 
exalting  the  "  mighty  soul  "  of  the  conqueror, 
and  making  the  world  believe  that  here  was 
"  glory." 

The  simple  people  of  the  neighborhood  for 
many  years  after  pretended  that  ghosts  of  the 
slain  returned  on  the  battle's  anniversary  to 
haunt  this  spot. 

At  Donauworth  we  stopped  long  enough  to 


62  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

admire  its  ruins  of  tower  and  wall ;  the  beauti- 
ful coloring  of  the  old  houses,  that  straggled 
back  from  the  Danube  along  a  sluggish  stream 
that  entered  here;  pretty  gardens;  black-tim- 
bered bridges — in  short,  another  of  the  many 
places  from  which  we  parted  with  regret.  We 
staid  here  sketching  and  exploring  until  the 
sun  had  set,  and  then  moved  on  reluctantly  to 
find  a  place  where  we  might  go  ashore  and 
sleep  comfortably  in  our  canoes. 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  63 

CHAPTER  VII 

ONE   OR   TWO  CANOE    POINTS   WORTH  NOTING 

NOW,  to  find  a  good  camp  site  along  the 
upper  Danube  requires  presence  of 
mind,  quickness  of  decision,  and,  above  all, 
knowledge  of  what  is  needed.  The  Danube  is 
a  swift  stream,  and  while  a  camp-finder  is 
making  up  his  mind,  his  boat  may  carry  him 
below  his  objective,  whence  it  is  not  easy  to 
paddle  back.  The  camp  must  not  be  low,  for 
fear  of  malaria;  it  must  not  be  high,  for  we 
have  to  carry  our  boats;  it  must  not  be  in  the 
bushes,  for  we  dislike  insects — and  yet  a  little 
shelter  is  a  good  thing.  Fortunately  in  our 
cook  we  have  combined  not  only  the  camping 
experience  of  two  wars,  but  a  genius  for  rapid 
selection,  to  which  the  rest  of  us  are  only  too 
glad  to  pay  tribute  by  appointing  him  a  chooser 
of  camps  as  well  as  cJicf  dc  cuisine.  When  the 
evening  shadows  warn  us  that  we  are  near  the 
end  of  our  clay,  our  camp-finder  paddles  a  bit 
ahead  of  the  other  two  and  reconnoitres  for  a 
landing-spot  with  an  eye  that  sees  not  merely 


64  PADDLES    AND    POLITICS 

height  and  depth,  bush  and  beach,  but  intu- 
itively detects  what  is  beyond.  On  landing 
there  is  but  one  feeling  in  every  breast — to 
sacrifice  everything  to  the  comfort  of  the  cook. 
His  boat  is  first  hauled  out,  carried  up  to  the 
softest  spot,  carefully  sponged,  covered  with 
its  tent,  and  disposed  for  the  night.  While 
one  of  us  helps  here,  the  other,  who  is  intrusted 
with  carrying  the  pots  and  pans,  quickly  places 
the  spirit  stoves  in  position,  spreads  out  a  few 
deck  hatches  to  serve  as  trays,  disposes  on 
these  such  articles  as  our  cook  may  need, 
opens  up  the  butter  and  milk,  sees  that  the 
soup-stirring  spoon  is  handy,  that  the  salt- 
cellar is  full,  and  that  no  ants  are  in  the  sugar. 
By  this  time  cook's  tent  is  in  order,  he  enters 
the  kitchen,  and  the  remaining  two  hurry  to 
attend  to  their  canoes,  animated  by  the  cheer- 
ful rattle  of  the  kitchen  utensils.  The  three 
boats  are  drawn  up  close  to  one  another,  ac- 
cording to  the  nature  of  the  ground,  the  stern 
being  a  trifle  higher  than  the  bow,  as  our  heads 
are  at  the  after  end,  and  a  little  slope  is  good 
in  case  of  rain.  Clothing  for  the  night  is  laid 
where  it  can  readily  be  got  at,  tents  are  raised, 
the  boats  propped  so  that  they  will  not  roll 
over;  perhaps  we  have  a  swim,  if  the  cook 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  65 

permits  ;  but  eventually  we  are  assembled 
around  the  flame  on  and  over  which  our  soup 
depends.  Everything  goes  well  with  soup,  as 
well  as  into  it,  but  some  things  go  better  than 
others,  particularly  canned  meats  and  "  ex- 
tracts." We  found  that  of  all  our  stores  noth- 
ing did  us  so  much  good  as  our  pan  of  soup 
along  with  a  large  piece  of  strong  German 
bread. 

The  utensils  are  all  cleaned    before  turning 


SKETCH   OF   MAC   GREGOR's    ORIGINAL    Ro'>    Koy,    186^.        LFNGTH,     15    FEET; 

WIDTH,  28  INCHES;   DEPTH,  9  LNCHES;   WEIGHT,  So  POUNDS. 

"  The  Rob  Koy  was  built  of  oak  with  a  deck  of  cedar My  hap- 

gage  for  three  months  was  in  a  black  bag,  one  foot  square  and  six  incites  deep. 
A  paddle  seven  feet  long  with  a  blade  at  each  end,  and  a  lug  sail  and  jib 
were  the  means  of  propulsion." — Quoted  from  MticGregor's  "  One  'Ihoit- 
sand  Miles  in  a  Rob  Roy  Canoe," 

in,  so  that  cook  may  have  nothing  to  complain 
of,  and  early  in  the  morning  he  prepares  us 
another  meal — sometimes,  by  way  of  a  special 
treat,  making  us  a  dish  of  genuine  Yankee 
corned  -  beef  hash  in  addition  to  the  usual 
coffee  ;  then  comes  the  washing  up,  furling  of 
tents,  stowing  of  baggage,  a  slide  down  the 
banks,  and  off  for  another  day. 


66  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

Our  camping-ground  that  night  was  on  a 
clean  meadow  well  situated  above  the  point 
where  the  pale  green  water  of  the  Lech  runs  its 
icy  Alpine  current  into  the  darker  and  warmer 
Danube.  We  feasted  here  on  eggs  and  soup, 
and  curled  into  our  sleeping-boxes  shortly 
after  9.  At  6  next  morning  we  had  our  morn- 
ing swim  before  luxuriating  in  our  breakfast  of 
coffee  and  bread,  to  which  was,  on  this  occa- 
sion, added  a  mess  of  fried  fresh  fish. 

The  Danube  was  full  of  interest  next  day. 
The  song  of  the  cuckoo  greeted  us.  There 
was  no  steamship  travel  here,  and  the  few 
barges  that  struggled  up  the  stream  drawn  by 
horses  appeared  to  be  doing  very  hard  work. 
The  stream  was  carrying  us  at  the  rate  of 
about  six  miles  an  hour,  while  we  did  not 
touch  a  paddle  or  hoist  a  sail,  and  we  could 
hear  the  clinking  of  the  pebbles  as  they  rat- 
tled in  the  bottom  of  the  stream.  We  might 
have  fancied  ourselves  far  from  human  life 
were  it  not  for  the  flat-boats  that  ferried  peas- 
ants, and  also  loads  of  hay  and  droves  of  cattle, 
from  one  side  to  the  other,  swinging  across  by 
means  of  a  cable  which  spans  the  river,  from 
which  runs  on  a  trolley  a  lighter  line  made  fast 
to  the  boat.  We  frequently  passed  such  ferry- 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  67 

boats  containing,  besides  many  people,  two 
loads  of  hay,  with  teams  complete,  the  horses 
enjoying  the  cool  rest  upon  the  river  apparent- 
ly as  much  as  the  peasants,  who  saluted  us 
with  their  pious  "God  greet  you  !  " 

Toward  noon  we  passed  under  the  arches  of 
a  stone  bridge  at  Neuburg,  a  town  that  is 
built  about  and  upon  a  wooded  bluff  that  runs 
up  strikingly  from  the  river,  crowned  by  castle 
and  towers,  and  betokening  another  mediaeval 
stronghold.  Here  our  boats  nearly  met  with 
disaster  ;  first,  from  the  eddy,  that  caught  one 
of  the  canoes  below  the  bridge  and  swung  it 
with  such  force  against  the  stone  quay  of  the 
town  as  to  make  a  dent  in  the  bow  and  a  tre- 
mendous jangling  amidst  the  kitchen  utensils 
in  the  stern  locker.  The  stream  is  furious, 
and  no  little  care  is  required  to  make  a  landing 
on  a  narrow  shingle  beach  below  this  wall. 
We  succeeded,  however,  in  getting  ashore,  and 
in  pulling  the  boats'  noses  up  a  little,  and  were 
clambering  up  the  stone  steps  to  hunt  up  an 
inn,  when  down  through  the  same  bridge  came 
a  huge  raft,  the  crew  gesticulating  wildly  to 
the  effect  that  they  were  going  to  make  fast  at 
this  point.  Had  they  come  five  minutes  later, 
we  would  have  been  unconscious  of  the  danger, 


68  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

and  our  boats  would  have  been  torn  away  or 
ground  to  splinters  by  the  irresistible  mass 
that  was  hurrying  down.  We  rushed  to  our 
boats  by  leaps  and  bounds,  pulled  them  as  far 
ashore  as  the  narrow  beach  allowed,  then 
plunged  into  the  river  to  press  against  the  raft, 
and  help  the  crew  in  their  efforts  to  clear  our 
tiny  boats.  The  situation  was  most  critical. 
It  was  only  a  matter  of  a  few  inches  more,  but 
these  meant  life  or  death  to  the  canoes.  The 
crew  worked  with  a  will — we  strained  every 
muscle.  The  population  on  shore  saw  our 
peril,  and  gave  us  their  sympathy  :  and,  in 
short,  the  boats  were  saved. 

As  we  sat  at  dinner  listening  to  the  daughter 
of  our  host,  who  entertained  us  with  Viennese 
waltzes,  we  determined  never  again  to  be 
pinched  between  a  raft  and  a  stone  wall.  Neu- 
burg  detained  us  only  long  enough  for  a  stroll 
amidst  its  old  walls,  in  its  many  handsome  but 
neglected  buildings,  with  the  traces  of  past 
greatness.  The  river  bore  us  on  again,  and 
soon  we  passed  Ingolstadt,  the  next  Danube 
fortress  below  Ulm — a  city  of  uniforms,  pon- 
toons, guns,  and  drums — an  interesting  place 
historically,  but  choked  with  the  spirit  of  mod- 
ern war. 


DOWN   THE   DANUBE  69 

The  first  place  we  reached  after  breaking 
camp  next  morning  was  the  prettily  situated  vil- 
lage of  Vohburg,  which  still  maintains  the  cus- 
tom of  paying  50  guldens  (about  $25)  to  each 
maiden  of  blameless  reputation  upon  her  mar- 
riage. We  passed  from  the  water's  edge 
through  a  dark  passage  under  a  massive  tower 
of  the  old  town  wall,  which  is  now  in  ruin,  and 
climbed  up  through  the  crooked  streets  to  what 
was  once  the  citadel,  and  where  now  stands  the 
church  about  which  clusters  the  interest  of  Voh- 
burg to  the  outside  world.  The  approach  to 
this  church  leads  under  another  ruined  tower, 
the  spaces  of  which  are  filled  with  pictures  and 
figures  of  sacred  character,  before  which  are 
praying-benches  that  invite  the  faithful  to  pause. 

Below  our  pretty  little  Vohburg  the  river  sud- 
denly parted  company  with  the  flat  fields,  and 
with  a  rapidity  most  surprising  whirled  us 
around  a  sharp  mountain  spur,  hurried  us  be- 
tween steep,  rocky,  and  thickly  wooded  hills. 
Another  quick  bend  was  made,  and  we  paddled 
in  betwixt  eddies  under  the  crosses  and  spires 
of  one  of  the  richest  monasteries  of  Germany, 
devoted  to  the  glory  of  St.  Benedict,  and  called 
Weltenburg.  The  chapel  was  built  at  a  time 
when  everything  that  every  art  could  furnish 


70  PADDLES   AXD   POLITICS 

and  money  buy  went  to  making  church  edifices 
splendid.  Clouds  are  built  out  above  the  altar, 
over  which  angel  figures  climb  and  look  down 
with  lifelike  agility  upon  the  spectator.  What 
parts  of  the  edifice  are  not  ornamented  with 
stained-glass  windows,  chapels,  or  costly  col- 
umns, are  covered  with  paintings.  One  of  these 
represents  Columbus  discovering  America, with 
the  Virgin  Mary  on  the  forecastle,  and  a  Ben- 
edictine monk  marking  the  channel.  The  pro- 
fusely decorated  altar  is  of  course  the  central 
feature  in  this  display  of  wealth;  and  it  would 
be  hard  to  exaggerate  its  impressiveness  as  a 
decorative  feature — rich,  harmonious  in  form 
and  color,  exquisite  carving  and  modeling,  a 
very  palace  of  devotion. 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  /I 

CHAPTER    VIII 

DANUBE    BOATMEN — GERMAN   LIBERTY 

AFTER  a  too  short  rush  down  this  splendid 
stretch,  the  river  opened  out,  and  we 
saw  before  us,  perched  on  a  hill  above  Kelheim, 
what  looked  like  a  Roman  temple.  It  was  the 
so-called  "  Hall  of  Liberation,"  erected  to  the 
memory  of  the  men  who  freed  Germany  from 
the  domination  of  Napoleon  in  the  beginning  of 
this  century.  It  was  under  a  very  hot  sun  that 
we  climbed  the  steep  hill  above  Kelheim  ki  or- 
der to  testify  our  sympathy  with  German  inde- 
pendence. The  temple  is  a  very  costly  dome, 
inside  of  which  are  slabs  bearing  the  names  of 
such  as  the  King  of  Bavaria  recognized  as  the 
liberators  of  the  fatherland.  We  were  struck 
by  the  names  of  many  Austrians  and  south  Ger- 
man military  mediocrities,  and  the  absence  of 
such  as  really  did  make  their  country  free. 
Wellington  is  conspicuous  by  his  absence;  so 
the  noble  Boyen  and  Liitzow.  The  man  whose 
far-sighted  legislation  lifted  Prussia  from  out  of 
the  results  of  Jena  is  not  to  be  found  here — 


72  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

we  mean  Stein — nor  his  able  successor,  Har- 
denberg.  The  poets  and  thinkers,  the  patriotic 
spirits  that  stirred  the  people  to  heroic  ex- 
ertion— these  were  the  ones  that  fought  Katz- 
bach  and  Leipzig;  but  they  are  not  noticed 
on  these  pagan  slabs.  Schiller  and  Korner, 
whose  songs  of  liberty  fired  the  German  heart 
and  sent  every  school-boy  into  the  army; 
Arndt  and  Jahn,  Uhland  and  Fichte — names 
that  in  1813  did  more  for  German  success  than 
a  fresh  army  corps — of  these  this  Bavarian  mau- 
soleum says  nothing. 

We  needed  a  glass  of  beer  to  wash  away  the 
effects  of  this  hot  climb,  and  this  we  enjoyed  at 
a  little  water-side  inn  frequented  by  the  boat- 
men of  the  river — an  honest,  intelligent,  and 
hardy  race  of  men,  interesting  to  meet,  for 
their  life  is  full  of  change  and  not  without  dan- 
ger. The  fact  of  our  coming  in  canoes  and  not 
by  land  made  us  the  more  welcome,  for,  as  one 
of  them  said  to  us  energetically,  "  I  am  an  old 
water-rat,  and  wish  to  be  nothing  else."  It  was 
therefore  as  "  fellow-craftsmen  "  that  we  invited 
them  to  share  our  beer  and  tell  us  of  their  life. 
And  indeed  it  adds  much  to  the  charm  of  this 
river  to  see  their  great  rafts  curving  around  the 
bends,  and  kept  in  the  current  by  a  number  of 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE 


73 


sweeps  at  bow  and  stern,  so  long  as  to  reach 
beyond  the  eddies,  and  heavy  enough  to  re- 
quire many  hands  to  control  them.  Whole 


lauof       C/tRIBK 


H  H — Water-tight  holds,  with  hatches  on  deck,  to  carry  light  freight  only. 
W  W  W — Open  well,  8  feet  long,  covered  when  required  by  removable 

deck-plates. 

C — Folding  centre-board,  like  a  fan. 

B — Rudder  that  lowers  when  sailing  and  is  hoisted  up  when  paddling. 
H — Back   board,  against  which  I  recline  and  behind  which  is  the  pantry — 

the  coolest  part  of  Caribee. 

families  live  on  these  rafts,  and  the  rude  frame 
huts  knocked  together  for  their  shelter  are  hap- 
py homes  to  some  for  weeks  and  weeks  during 


74  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

the  long  descent.  Many  a  traveling  mechanic 
gets  a  lift,  and  his  board  besides,  by  volunteer- 
ing at  the  sweeps  of  one  of  these  huge  floating 
caravansaries,  and  this  mode  of  traveling  is 
much  patronized,  for  it  is  obviously  more  agree- 
able than  plodding  along  the  dusty  highway. 
Many  of  the  flat-bottomed  but  sharp-nosed 
barges  that  go  down  this  stream  never  return, 
being  rudely  built,  and  ultimately  broken  up 
for  timber.  Others  that  we  passed  are  intended 
to  last  longer,  and  had  in  tow  a  second  and 
smaller  barge,  in  which  were  a  pair  of  stockily 
built  horses,  at  present  enjoying  the  river  view 
over  a  trough  of  feed,  but  who  soon  wrill  be 
struggling  up  the  tow-path,  splashing  through 
the  mire,  now  floundering  up  to  their  bellies  at 
points  where  the  river  is  over  the  banks,  now 
clambering  like  cats  along  the  foot  of  the  rocks, 
always  keeping  a  tight  strain  on  the  long  line 
that  pulls  their  barge;  and  woe  to  horse  and 
rider  if  any  misstep  hurls  man  and  beast  down 
into  the  dangerous  current  !  When  many 
teams  are  pulling  at  one  heavily  laden  boat,  the 
effort  to  save  one  may  endanger  the  lives  of  all. 
These  river-side  rough  riders  waste  little  time 
in  prayer  at  such  a  moment,  but  whip  out  their 
knives  and  cut  loose  the  rope  of  the  fallen  ones, 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  75 

quieting  their  conscience  by  the  reflection  that 
it  may  be  their  turn  to-morrow.  Loss  of  life  in 
this  manner  is  not  uncommon,  for,  owing  to  the 
sudden  swelling  of  the  river  after  a  rain,  and 
the  great  difficulty  of  maintaining  a  tow-path 
in  good  condition,  the  work  of  man  and  beast 
along  the  Danube  partakes  much  of  picking 
one's  way  across  a  very  bad  and  little  known 
country,  for  the  path  is  never  twice  the  same 
to  even  a  veteran  teamster. 

But  while  these  men  have  some  of  the  cow- 
boy's recklessness  and  roughness,  they  have, 
too,  the  warm  heart  that  usually  beats  in  tune 
with  courage.  When  our  party  boarded  one 
of  these  great  scows,  they  were  immediately 
made  the  guests  of  the  boat.  Beer  was  brought 
forward;  they  were  compelled  to  share  in  the 
noon-day  dinner  of  beef,  so  generously  dis- 
pensed that  even  a  canoeist  could  not  eat  it  all, 
and  some  of  it  had  to  be  dropped  secretly  over 
the  side,  lest  the  feelings  of  our  hosts  might  be 
hurt  by  the  thought  that  their  food  had  not  been 
duly  appreciated. 

From  these  people  we  borrowed  a  good  idea 
in  the  way  of  protection  against  cold,  wind,  and 
rain — a  garment  good  to  sleep  in,  sleep  on, 
stand  in,  or  paddle  in,  falling  below  the  knees; 


76  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

one  long-  piece,  through  which  the  head  is 
thrust  at  the  middle,  leaving  one  half  to  fall  in 
front,  the  other  half  behind.  The  sides  are 
open,  and  there  are  no  sleeves.  It  sounds  as 
though  the  ventilation  had  been  too  generous- 
ly cared  for,  but  such  is  not  the  case.  On  the 
contrary,  it  is  the  favorite  overcoat  of  the  Dan- 
ube watermen,  and  we  promptly  got  the  ad- 
dress of  a  tailor  at  the  head-waters  of  the  river 
Traun,  in  the  Tyrolean  Mountains,  and  had 
three  sent  clown  to  us  in  every  respect  like 
those  of  our  good  friends  the  Danube  raftsmen. 
We  camped  that  night  in  sight  of  the  spires 
of  Regensburg  Cathedral — an  event  that  en- 
couraged us  to  wash  our  flannel  shirts  with 
great  energy,  for  on  the  forenoon  of  the  next 
day  we  made  our  entry  into  the  whilom  capi- 
tal of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire,  called  by  the 
French  Ratisbonne,  and  famous  as  the  starting- 
place  of  many  crusading  columns  who  sought 
Jerusalem  by  way  of  the  Danube. 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  77 

CHAPTER   IX 

THE  CAPITAL  OF  THE  HOLY  ROMAN  EMPIRE 

"  There  came  a  bold  crusader, 

With  fifty  harnessed  men, 
And  he  embarked  at  Ratisbon 

To  fight  the  Saracen. 
This  gallant  knight,  Sir  Gottfried  hight, 

Leads  forth  a  noble  band, 
Whose  flag  shall  wave  triumphantly 

In  Judah's  hallowed  land." 

WITH  the  exception  that  the  Saracen 
had  rather  the  best  of  it  as  far  as  the 
flag-waving  in  Judah  was  concerned,  this  po- 
etic version  is  correct  enough  in  illustrating 
the  early  importance  of  Regensburg  as  a  ship- 
ping-point; it  was,  in  fact,  the  first  town  above 
Vienna  to  send  a  regular  packet  once  a  week 
down  the  river  (in  1696);  and  considering  the 
state  of  the  river  then,  and,  above  all,  the  moral 
view  of  highway  robbery  entertained  by  the 
landed  gentry  along  the  banks,  this  enterprise 
was  no  light  one. 

Few  towns,   I  fancy,   combine  within   their 


78  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

walls  so  many  buildings  of  interest,  and  so 
many  memories  dear  to  mankind.  We  sat 
down  upon  the  pavement  in  the  market-place 
to  muse  of  these  things,  our  backs  to  a  church 
wall,  and  our  hats  full  of  freshly  picked  straw- 
berries from  the  basket  of  an  equally  fresh  peas- 
ant lassie,  who  delighted  in  seeing  us  eat  her 
fruit.  But  the  monument  most  interesting 
to  a  canoeist  is  the  stone  bridge,  claimed  by 
Regensburgers  to  be  the  strongest  in  the  world. 
At  any  rate,  the  span  between  the  piers  is  no 
wider  than  the  buttresses,  and  the  river  rushes 
through  so  turbulently  as  to  create  very  risky- 
looking  whirlpools  and  rapids  below.  The  en- 
gineer troops  of  Ingolstadt  have  to  take  pilots 
when  they  pass  this  town,  and  we  were  strong- 
ly urged  to  do  the  same;  but  we  had  no  room, 
and  consequently  determined  to  try  for  our- 
selves. We  succeeded  by  choosing  the  right- 
hand  arch,  and  our  success  was  in  spite  of  the 
devil;  for  his  share  in  its  construction  was  very 
great,  as  every  Danube  sailor  will  attest. 

The  story  runs  that  while  the  cathedral  was 
in  course  of  construction,  the  chief  architect 
intrusted  to  a  very  clever  apprentice  the  task 
of  making  this  bridge.  The  young  man  felt  so 
confident  that  he  offered  to  span  the  Danube 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  79 

before  his  master  had  finished  the  cathedral. 
But  he  finally  found  that  he  had  undertaken  too 
much,  for  the  sacred  pile  went  up  with  great 
steadiness,  while  the  bridge  moved  with  great 
difficulty.  The  youngster  finally  vented  his 
discouragement  in  blasphemous  wishes  that  the 
devil  might  take  over  the  job. 

No  sooner  spoken  than  a  venerable  monk 
appeared  and  offered  to  do  the  work.  In  his 
sandals  were  cloven  hoofs,  and  a  tail  whisked 
under  the  sacred  garb;  but  nevertheless  a  bar- 
gain was  made,  and  it  was  agreed  that  when 
the  bridge  was  done,  the  devil  was  to  have  the 
first  three  living  things  that  crossed. 

The  devil  kept  his  word.  All  the  material 
came  to  hand  with  such  devilish  rapidity  that 
the  morning  broke  upon  a  completed  bridge. 

It  was  May-day,  and  of  course  a  great  crowd 
was  present,  each  eager  to  be  first  in  crossing 
so  new  and  magnificent  a  thoroughfare.  The 
devil,  delighted  with  his  bargain,  rubbed  his 
hands  under  the  second  arch  from  the  shore, 
and  waited  for  his  victims. 

"Stop!"  said  the  architect  to  the  crowd. 
"  Stand  back !  In  the  opening  of  this  bridge 
we  have  a  solemn  ceremony  to  perform  before 
it  can  be  pronounced  safe.  Jacob,"  said  he,  with 


8O  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

a  wink  to  his  foreman,  "  let  the  strangers  take 
precedence." 

At  these  words  a  rough  wolf-dog,  followed 
by  a  cock  and  a  hen,  was  set  at  large,  and 
crossed  the  first  arch  of  the  bridge.  At  the 
same  time  a  dreadful  noise  was  heard  under  the 
piers.  The  mangled  remains  of  the  three  ani- 
mals flew  in  all  directions,  and  the  devil  was 
seen  to  disappear,  screaming,  "Cheated  !  cheat- 
ed of  my  fee  !  "  The  monks  now  sprinkled  holy 
water  on  the  bridge,  and  the  happy  people  re- 
joiced. 

The  second  arch  of  the  Regensburg  bridge, 
as  if  to  prove  the  legend,  is  still  savagely  bent 
upon  destroying  the  boatman  venturing  be- 
neath it;  and  as  we  had  no  desire  to  measure 
the  strength  of  our  paddle  with  that  of  the 
devil's  pitchfork,  we  carefully  avoided  it,  and 
advise  all  others  to  do  the  same. 

The  graceful  Gothic  spires  of  Regensburg 
cathedral  now  rapidly  faded  away  behind  us, 
and  we  passed  down  stream  toward  a  rocky 
promontory  on  which  has  been  built  a  temple 
to  German  fame,  called  the  Walhalla.  The 
proportions  are  those  of  the  Athenian  Parthe- 
non, and  the  situation  is  admirably  chosen  for 
the  display  of  its  striking  beauty.  All  the 


DOWN    THK    DANUBE  8l 

branches  of  the  German  family  are  here  united 
in  one  sentiment  of  pride  and  gratitude  touch- 
ing the  deeds  of  their  ancestors,  and  it  is  emi- 
nently gratifying  that  Bavaria,  of  all  German 
states,  should  set  the  example  of  honoring  the 
work  of  Germans  as  citizens  of  a  great  empire 
rather  than  as  subjects  of  petty  princes. 


82  PADDLTS   AND    POLITICS 

CHAPTER    X 

PRIESTLY     MIRACLES 

ONE  of  the  most  beautiful  little  towns  in  a 
country  famous  for  such  things  is  Deg- 
gendorf,  nestling  charmingly  at  the  feet  of  the 
so-called  Bavarian  Forest,  close  to  the  mouth 
of  the  Isar  and  half-way  between  Regensburg 
and  the  Austrian  frontier.  Bavaria  has  few 
places  so  well  adapted  to  amuse  the  stranger, 
and  none  that  so  singularly  reflects  the  piety 
of  her  peasantry.  Baedeker  is  strangely  unin- 
teresting about  it:  he  merely  says,  "152  km. 
Deggendorf  (322  m.);  Friedrich,  z.  \l/2  m.; 
(6,357  E.)  etc.,"  adding  drily  that  its  trade  and 
industry  were  flourishing.  This  by  no  means 
satisfied  me,  for  I  was  in  quest  of  a  peculiarly 
picturesque  trade  and  industry  under  the  pat- 
ronage of  the  pope  at  Rome,  the  fame  of 
which  drew  me  ashore  quite  as  much  as  the 
hope  of  a  good  dinner  at  the  Friedrich. 

Caribee  was  sailing  close  to  the  shore,  a 
sharp  lookout  being  kept  ahead  for  a  good 
landing  place,  when  a  voice  hailed  me  from 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  83 

what  proved  to  be  the  boat-house  of  the  local 
rowing  club.  There  was  a  good  float  to  it, 
and  a  member  who  was  at  that  moment  over- 
hauling a  boat,  invited  me  to  make  use  of  the 
club  quarters.  Nothing  better  could  I  have 
wished  for.  Caribcc  was  comfortably  stowed; 
I  inspected  the  premises  which  at  that  time 
boasted  of  only  two  single  scull  shells,  and 
after  having  answered  his  questions  about  the 
canoe,  he  began  to  answer  some  of  mine  about 
Deggendorf. 

I  got  from  him  this  story — one  which  I  had 
unearthed  some  time  ago  in  the  British  Muse- 
um, but  which  became  doubly  interesting 
from  being  repeated  by  the  lips  of  a  Deggen- 
dorf citizen  in  the  most  modern  of  rowing 
costumes. 

"Thousands  flock  here  every  year  for  abso- 
lution on  account  of  the  objects  preserved  in 
this  little  church  which  are  supposed  to  work 
miracles." 

"  Don't  you  believe  they  really  work  mira- 
cles ?"  I  asked. 

He  looked  at  me  quizzically — I  thought  he 
winked.  His  answer  was  evasive. 

'  The    peasants  believe  it."     Then  he  pro- 
ceeded: 


84  PADULES   AND   POLITICS 

"  In  1337  there  was  a  massacre  of  the  Jews 
here.  This  is  the  way  it  happened  : 

"  The  Jews  were  accused  of  having  bought 
of  an  old  woman  a  sacramental  wafer  which 
she  had  stolen.  This  wafer  they  scratched, 
and  punched  and  beat  in  every  imaginable 
manner.  One  night  the  mother  of  God,  so  the 
people  say,  complained  loudly  about  this  out- 
rage. The  night  watchman  overheard  her, 
and  he  in  his  turn  carried  the  news  to  the 
Elders  of  the  town. 

"  Of  course  the  greatest  indignation  pre- 
vailed, because  every  one  was  bound  to  be- 
lieve the  mother  of  God,  particularly  when  she 
sent  a  message  through  the  night  watchman. 
The  Christians  swore,  every  man  of  them  upon 
the  crucifix,  not  to  rest  until  every  Jew  in 
Deggendorf  was  destroyed.  The  very  lord 
of  the  castle  came  down  with  his  armed  men 
and  helped  in  the  general  murder.  Not  a  sin- 
gle Jew  escaped.  The  houses  they  inhabited 
were  first  thoroughly  plundered  and  then 
burned  to  the  ground." 

This  seemed  to  me  very  wicked,  and  I  said  so 
to  my  boating  friend.  "  Yes,  I  suppose  it  was," 
replied  he;  "but  then  it  was  very  popular,  be- 
cause every  man  in  Deggendorf,  from  the  lord 


DOWN'    THE    DANUBE  85 

in  the  castle  to  the  stone-breaker,  was  prob- 
ably deep  in  the  Jews'  debt — and  this  was  a 
short  way  of  settling  all  claims  between  debtor 
and  creditor.* 

*  It  is  curious  in  this  connection  to  turn  to  the  7th 
chapter  of  Prescott's  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  about  the 
persecution  of  the  Jews  in  Spain  and  the  founding  of  that 
devilish  institution  called  the  "  Inquisition."  On  page 
239  we  read:  "  But  all  this  royal  patronage  proved  incom- 
petent to  protect  the  Jews  when  their  nourishing  fortunes 
had  risen  to  a  sufficient  height  to  excite  popular  envy, 
augmented  as  it  was  by  that  profuse  ostentation  of  equipage 
and  apparel  for  which  this  singular  people,  notwithstand- 
ing their  avarice,  have  usually  shown  a  predilection. 

"  Stories  were  circulated  of  their  contempt  for  the  Cath- 
olic worship,  their  desecration  of  its  most  holy  symbols, 
and  of  their  crucifixion,  or  other  sacrifice,  of  Christian 
children  at  the  celebration  of  their  own  passover. 

"  With  these  foolish  calumnies,  the  more  probable  charge 
of  usury  and  extortion  was  industriously  preferred  against 
them,  till  at  length,  towards  the  close  of  the  fourteenth 
century,  the  fanatical  populace,  stimulated  in  many  in- 
stances by  the  no  less  fanatical  clergy,  and  perhaps  en- 
couraged by  the  numerous  class  of  debtors  to  the  Jews, 
who  found  this  a  convenient  mode  of  settling  their  accounts, 
made  a  fierce  assault  on  this  unfortunate  people  in  Castile 
and  Aragon,  breaking  into  their  houses,  violating  their 
most  private  sanctuaries,  scattering  their  most  costly  col- 
lections and  furniture,  and  consigning  the  wretched  pro- 
prietors to  indiscriminate  massacre,  without  regard  to  sex 
or  age." 


86  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

"  During  the  conflagration  the  sacred  wafer 
rose  from  a  Jew's  house  and  dropped  into  the 
apron  of  a  Christian  blacksmith.  Hereupon  a 
newly  ordained  priest  from  a  neighboring  vil- 
lage bore  the  holy  object  with  all  honor  back 
into  the  church  whence  it  was  originally  stolen. 

"  This  massacre  gave  great  satisfaction  to 
the  temporal  and  spiritual  rulers  of  the  time; 
particularly  to  the  pope,  who  issued  a  special 
indulgence  to  all  those  who  had  helped  mas- 
sacre the  Jews  on  that  occasion." 

A  learned  German  professor  writing  of  this 
place  says  that  in  1815  he  found  here  at  one 
time  10,000  pilgrims,  all  seeking  indulgence  for 
sins  committed.  He  states  that  the  limit  of 
years  for  which  indulgence  at  that  time  could 
be  purchased  was  only  387,560  years.  To  me 
that  amount  of  time  seemed  quite  enough  for 
all  practical  purposes. 

At  that  time  most  of  the  people  had  to  sleep 
in  the  open  streets,  so  crowded  was  every  part 
of  the  town.  "The  first  to  enter  the  church 
after  the  pastor  was  believed  to  receive  the 
greatest  indulgence.  Naturally  therefore," 
adds  the  professor, ' '  there  was  plenty  of  punch- 
ing in  the  ribs,  bloody  noses  and  blue  bruises 
in  the  contest  at  the  narrow  door.  The 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  87 

market-place  reechoed  with  cries  of  pain  and 
the  cursing  of  those  straining  to  get  priestly 
indulgence;  and  much  laughing  there  was 
when  a  peasant  woman  lost  her  fine  head- 
dress in  the  scrimmage." 

This  extract  from  Professor  Schultes's  classic 
little  book  suggests  that  the  author  was  not 
"  orthodox  "  at  heart;  particularly  as  he  states 
that  of  two  honest  priests  who  subsequently 
sought  to  set  bounds  to  the  imposition,  one 
was  exiled  and  the  other  sent  to  jail.  He 
points  out  that  the  money  contributed  to  the 
Roman  Church  by  the  pilgrims  is  very  con- 
siderable, and  that  the  clergy  would  be  very 
sorry  to  have  the  anniversary  of  this  historic 
massacre  celebrated  in  any  other  manner. 

My  rowing  friend  said  that  thousands  came 
even  now,  but  he  could  not  give  me  the  exact 
number.  The  official  figures  that  I  have 
found  recorded  in  odd  books  on  the  subject 
fluctuate  between  60,000  in  the  year  1766,  and 
100,000  in  1837,  which  was  of  course  an  espe- 
cial feast,  being  the  five-hundredth  anniver- 
sary of  the  glorious  murder. 

I  was  hungry  by  this  time,  and  strolled  up 
into  the  quaint  little  town  looking  for  the  inn. 
The  old  walls  are  still  there  and  the  hu<je 


PADDLES    AND    POLITICS 

gateway  as  well.  The  market-place  looked  as 
it  might  have  looked  on  the  day  of  the  memo- 
rable massacre,  and  there  was  the  identical 
church  into  which  the  holy  wafer  was  carried. 
The  building  itself  is  not  very  striking,  but 
there  are  very  curious  pictures  on  the  walls 
depicting  the  story  of  the  Holy  wafer  accom- 
panied by  a  running  commentary  that  I  shall 
seek  to  reproduce. 

But  first  my  dinner,  which  is  another  mira- 
cle— for  I  had  soup,  two  meats,  game,  vege- 
tables, pudding,  coffee,  segars,  and  beer  ad 
libitum,  the  whole  for  two  marks,  being  equiv- 
alent to  fifty  cents.  And  let  me  add  that  all  this 
was  of  the  best,  for  this  part  of  Bavaria  is  fa- 
mous for  high  living. 

Now,  once  more  to  our  miracle  church,  and 
let  us  make  believe  that  we  are  profound 
archaeologists  making  a  discovery.  The  sub- 
stance of  the  wall  paintings  has  been  embod- 
ied in  an  exceedingly  rare  little  duodecimo 
volume,  the  preface  of  which  indicates  that  it 
was  written,  if  not  published,  in  the  great  year 
1776,  when  American  independence  was  pro- 
claimed, and  when  Adam  Smith  published  his 
"  Wealth  of  Nations."  It  is  properly  equipped 
with  the  Censor's  imprimatur  and  whatever  else 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  89 

can  heighten  its  importance  with  priest  and 
people.  It  is  so  very  convenient  in  shape,  and 
so  full  of  woodcuts,  that  it  was  doubtless  in- 
tended as  a  pilgrim's  pocket  guide.  The  title 
begins  thus:  "  Das  Obsiegende  Glaubens  Wun- 
der  des  Ganzen  Christ.  Churlandes  Baiern," 
etc.  The  curious  can  find  a  copy  of  it,  care- 
fully protected  in  a  venerable  leather  pocket, 
in  the  library  of  the  British  Museum,  but  so 
valuable  is  it  that  the  reader  must  go  into  a 
special  room  before  being  allowed  to  open  the 
precious  volume. 

There  are  ninety-seven  duodecimo  pages, 
the  first  twenty-three  relating  the  story  of  the 
miracle,  the  balance  being  prayers  appropri- 
ate to  the  pilgrimage,  a  full  list  of  the  many 
authentic  and  officially  registered  miracles 
performed  here  in  the  years  1/69  to  1775  in- 
clusive, and  finally  a  list  of  all  those  who  took 
the  communion  here  in  the  first  sixteen  years 
of  this  century,  thus  proving  that  one  edition 
at  least  is  as  recent  as  1817. 

We  can  now  appreciate  the  paintings  on  the 
walls  of  the  Deggendorf  church,  for  they  are 
not  only  reproduced  in  bur  little  volume,  but 
there  is  along  with  the  woodcuts  an  official 
account  of  how  it  all  happened. 


QO  PADDLKS   AND    POLITICS 

Chapter  I.  is  headed:  "  How  a  God-forgetting 
Christian  woman  several  times  obtained  the 
sacramental  wafers  by  perjuring  her  soul,  and 
afterwards  sold  them  to  the  Jews."  And  the 
picture  depicts  her  kneeling  at  the  altar,  but 
instead  of  swallowing  the  emblem  she  is  slyly 
placing  it  in  a  handkerchief,  "  Schnupftuch." 
This  we  are  told  was  done  by  her  ten  times  in 
the  year  1337. 

The  next  picture  suggests  five  violently  agi- 
tated men  trying  to  stab  with  a  knife  one  of 
four  eggs.  The  legend  explains  it:  "  The 
sacramental  wafers  are  being  pricked  by  the 
godless  Jews  until  the  most  holy  blood  flows. 
They  prick  it  with  a  shoemaker's  awl,  that  is 
still  in  existence." 

The  third  picture  represents  four  men  about 
a  table,  on  which  is  a  child,  and  the  meaning 
of  it  is,  according  to  the  accompanying  text, 
that  "  The  holy  wafers  are  scratched  by  the 
rascally  Jews  until  the  blood  runs.  This  tor- 
ture produces  a  little  child.  One  of  these 
thorns  is  still  preserved." 

The  fourth  picture  represents  four  men 
standing  near  an  oven  with  this  legend  below: 
"  The  holy  wafer  is  shot  into  a  baker's  oven, 
but  it  preserves  the  form  of  a  little  child  and  is 


DOWN    THE    DANUBK  9 1 

not  injured.  The  stone  door  of  this  oven  is 
still  to  be  seen." 

Picture  five  represents  four  men  hammering 
at  four  egg-looking  objects.  This  is  the  le- 
gend beneath:  "  The  hands  of  the  cruel  Jews 
seize  the  hammers  and  smite  the  holy  emblems 
several  times  upon  a  smith's  anvil,  but  without 
effect.  The  base  of  this  anvil  can  be  seen  to- 
day." 

In  the  next  picture  one  of  four  men  has 
every  appearance  of  seeking  to  balance  upon 
his  chin  a  doll.  The  explanation  reads:  "  To 
bring  their  wickedness  to  a  climax  and  to  hide 
the  sacramental  emblems  as  well  as  their 
crimes,  these  Jews,  in  their  accursed  thirst  for 
vengeance,  try  to  swallow-  the  holy  wafers. 
But  once  more  a  little  child  opposes  them, 
with  hands  and  feet,  for  this  bread  was  not  in- 
tended for  dogs." 

The  seventh  picture  shows  a  woman  stretched 
at  full  length  on  the  ground,  while  in  the  back- 
ground four  men  are  dropping  something  into 
a  well.  The  story  reads:  "The  holy  wafers 
are  thrown  into  a  well.  The  water  is  poisoned, 
so  that  many  Christians  die  in  consequence." 

The  eighth  chapter  is  worth  quoting  in  full: 
"These  foolish  fellows  returned  from  the  well  in 


92  PADDLES    AND    POLITICS 

glee,  thinking  they  had  done  the  business  well. 
They  thought  they  had  trampled  on  the  great 
and  only  God,  but  instead  of  that  they  were 
themselves  trampled  upon,  from  life  into  death; 
from  death  into  Hell. 

"  For  the  God  who  knows  all  was  able  to 
free  himself  from  the  leather  bag  (into  which 
the  wafer  had  been  placed),  although  it  was 
firmly  tied.  He  swung  himself  up  and  showed 
himself  to  the  Christians,  and  in  consequence 
the  well  was  closely  watched. 

"  But  the  Christians  who  had  taken  an  oath 
together,  fell  unexpectedly  upon  the  Jews. 
And  since  these  obstinate  Jewish  monsters 
could  not  be  brought  to  any  sense  of  modera- 
tion (Gelassenheit)  by  humane  treatment,  all 
of  them,  without  exception,  were  put  to  death, 
some  by  means  of  daggers,  some  by  means  of 
knotty  clubs. 

"  And  now,  after  murdering  the  murderers 
of  the  sacramental  God,  and  freeing  the  town 
of  this  race  of  God-stealers,  these  same  Chris- 
tian citizens  called  a  newly  ordained  priest, 
who  was  born  in  Nieder  Altaich.  He  put  on 
his  priestly  robes  and  went  with  them  to  the 
well.  .  .  .  Andlo!  the  miracle!  When  the 
priest  arrived  with  the  enthusiastic  citizens  all 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  93 

ten  wafers  flew  up  into  the  air,  and  thereupon 
each  one  settled  upon  the  vessel  which  the 
priest  held  out  for  this  purpose. 

"In  this  manner  did  the  sacramental  God 
give  himself  up  as  a  gift  to  the  inhabitants  of 
this  place,  for  they  had  proved  themselves  the 
hearty  champions  of  his  Godhead  and  his  true 
faith. 

"  The  sacramental  God  allowed  himself  to 
be  carried  into  the  small  and  poor  church  here, 
where  he  still  abides  to  the  present  day  in  the 
midst  of  innumerable  acts  of  mercy  and  as- 
tounding miracles." 

The  interesting  feature  of  this  quaint  little 
story  is  not  so  much  that  the  Jews  were  mas- 
sacred to  a  man  in  the  year  1337,  for  at  that 
time  the  murder  of  a  Jew  was,  all  over  the 
civilized  world,  as  popular  a  pastime  as  killing 
an  Apache  Indian  is  sport  to-day  for  the 
orthodox  cowboy  of  Arizona.  The  fact  that 
the  high  clergy  and  temporal  rulers  of  the 
day  relished  the  massacre  is  equally  easy  to 
understand.  We  can  almost  appreciate  the 
reasons  which  induced  Pope  Innocent  the  VIII. 
to  protect  the  Deggendorf  pilgrimage  by  a 
special  Bull  signed  in  1489  when  the  rumblings 
of  the  Reformation  were  already  ominous. 


94  PADDLES    AND    POLITICS 

But  it  is  somewhat  surprising  that  such  a  book 
should  receive  official  sanction  as  late  as  the 
year  1816,  and  that  to  the  present  day  the 
Roman  Catholic  clergy  should  lend  its  counte- 
nance to  a  story  calculated  to  intensify  the  Jew- 
baiting  propensities  of  their  communicants. 

The  Jews  of  Germany,  who  represent  a  very 
large  number  of  intelligent  and  industrious 
voters,  surely  have  a  right  to  demand  that  such 
prejudice  as  exists  against  them  in  all  countries 
should  not  be  heightened  by  ridiculous  false- 
hoods propagated  by  the  people's  clerical 
leaders. 

My  friend  of  the  boating  club  regretted,  he 
said,  the  spirit  that  prompted  this  pilgrimage, 
but  added  that  it  was  to  the  town  a  source  of  such 
great  pecuniary  profit,  that  no  one  of  its  citizens 
dared  criticise  the  institution  in  any  way  for 
fear  of  incurring  unpopularity.  He  would  be 
simply  boycotted. 

While  on  the  subject  of  miracles,  I  might 
mention,  by  the  way,  that  I  can  scarce  recall  a 
place  along  the  Roman  Catholic  Danube  that 
did  not  enjoy  some  reputation  of  this  sort, 
though  few  so  completely  as  romantic  little 
Deggendorf.  A  rival  village,  Ober  Altaich, 
according  to  the  learned  Professor  Schultes  (p. 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  95 

339)  preserves  some  hay  that  fed  the  ass  on 
which  our  Saviour  rode;  some  crumbs  from 
the  last  supper;  some  of  St.  Peter's  tears;  a 
section  of  the  title  upon  the  crucifix;  some  of 
the  fish  which  our  Saviour  ate,  and  many  other 
remarkable  miracle-working  relics. 

In  Neustadt,  between  Ingolstadt  and  Re- 
gensburg,  the  staff  of  St.  Magnus  was  credited 
with  the  miraculous  power  of  frightening  away 
rats,  provided  it  was  properly  waved  to  the 
four  quarters  of  the  heavens.  At  Sossau  is  the 
Virgin  Mary's  picture  which  in  1534  miracu- 
lously escaped  from  the  hands  of  the  wicked 
Lutherans,  and  was  rowed  up  against  the  cur- 
rent by  a  crewr  of  angels.  Near  Niederachdorf 
is  preserved  a  drop  of  our  Saviour's  blood, 
which  attracts  hosts  of  pilgrims.  Bogen,  not 
far  above  Deggendorf,  has  a  miracle-working 
statue  of  the  Virgin.  It  was  discovered  one 
fine  morning  swimming  up  the  river,  and  was 
reverently  conveyed  to  the  chapel  of  the  castle, 
where  it  showed  its  gratitude  by  performing  no 
end  of  marvelous  things.  The  pilgrims  who 
flocked  to  Bogen  were  almost  as  numerous  as 
those  that  sought  Deggendorf:  even  emperors 
are  said  to  have  come  to  worship  here.  Pas- 
sau  has  a  statue  of  the  Virgin  believed  to  shed 


96  PADDLES    AND    POLITICS 

real  tears — an  object  of  enormous  veneration. 
At  Maria  Taferl  near  Poechlarn,  in  Austria, 
stood  an  oak-tree  which  a  peasant  sought  to 
cut  down,  but  ineffectually. 

At  the  first  blow  he  cut  off  one  foot,  and  at 
the  next  he  cut  off  the  remaining  one.  This 
was  so  discouraging  that  he  looked  up,  saw 
the  Virgin  Mary,  repented  of  his  impiety,  was 
promptly  healed,  and  went  off  to  tell  the  tale 
to  his  fellow-peasants.  The  result  was  a 
chapel,  streams  of  pilgrims,  and  much  profit  to 
the  clerical  treasury. 

The  traveler  looks  for  these  tales  south  of  the 
Alps;  but  the  degree  to  which  they  flourish  in 
Germany,  to  say  nothing  of  Austria,  I  confess 
caused  me  some  surprise.  It  marks  a  great  in- 
tellectual gulf  between  Protestant  Branden- 
burg and  Roman  Catholic  Bavaria.  The  one 
sees  in  Luther  the  man  who  gave  to  Germans 
the  right  to  think,  at  least  in  regard  to  the 
future  life.  The  other  regards  the  monk  of 
Wittemberg  as  nothing  more  than  a  sacrile- 
gious beast. 

When  Bismarck  in  1870  attacked  the  Roman 
Catholic  priesthood,  he  embarked  upon  a  cam- 
paign compared  with  which  that  of  1870  was  a 
mere  skirmish.  The  Iron  Chancellor  had  in 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  97 

the  war  against  France  only  bodies  and 
bayonets  to  oppose  him,  and  a  Moltke  did  his 
fighting.  In  the  "  Kulturkampf "  or  religious 
war  which  followed,  he  had  against  him  the  re- 
ligious traditions  of  a  thousand  years,  actively 
organized  and  manceuvered  by  a  priesthood 
well  trained  for  the  fight  to  which  they  were 
invited.  Bismarck  was  completely  beaten 
after  nearly  ten  years  of  struggle,  and  signal- 
ized his  surrender  by  sending  to  the  Vatican  in 
1882  a  special  Prussian  Envoy  with  the  white 
flag  of  truce.  As  I  sailed  away  from  the  little 
boat-house  of  Deggendorf,  Caribee  remarked 
to  me  in  confidence  that  Bismarck  would  never 
have  made  such  a  mess  of  his  religious  crusade 
had  he  first  made  a  canoe  cruise  down  the 
Danube  with  his  eyes  open. 


9$  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 


CHAPTER    XI 

CARIBEE  SURVIVES  THE  WHIRLPOOLS  CALLED 
STRUDEL   AND  WIRBEL 

FROM  Deggendorf  on,  the  scenery  becomes 
mountainous,  rocky,  even  wild;  particu- 
larly between  Passau  and  Linz,  where  the  river 
reminded  us  forcibly  of  the  Hudson  Highlands 
between  Haverstraw  Bay  and  Newburgh.  We 
have  parted  with  the  black  soil  and  luxurious 
peasants  of  Straubing,  and  come  now  amongst 
people  whose  habits  are  more  those  of  moun- 
taineers, where  lumbering  is  the  chief  industry, 
and  where  settlements  are  few  and  far  between. 
Every  sharp  river  corner  carries  on  its  crest  the 
remnants  of  a  feudal  castle,  whose  tower  still 
remains  in  token  of  its  former  grandeur  and 
political  importance,  and  a  picturesque  protest 
against  the  free  commerce  on  the  Danube. 

At  the  frontier  of  Austria  we  were  ordered 
to  stop,  to  come  ashore,  to  show  our  passport, 
and  to  pay  sixteen  kreutzers  apiece — quite  in 
the  spirit  of  the  castles  whose  ruins  we  were 
passing.  None  of  our  boats  were  searched, 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  99 

however,  and  we  were  assured  that  the  tax  was 
merely  a  formality  connected  with  passing  into 
Austria.  No  such  tax  was  demanded  on  pass- 
ing into  Holland  or  Germany.  The  tax  is,  to 
be  sure,  small  in  amount,  but  a  grievous  one  in 
principle. 

In  the  midst  of  this  wildest  and  most  beauti- 
ful part  of  the  Danube — a  stretch  that  may  be 
said  roughly  to  include  Deggendorf  and  Diir- 
renstein — is  the  strikingly  situated  village  of 
Grein,  in  the  midst  of  a  cluster  of  ragged  peaks, 
each  overlooking  the  stream,  each  with  a  ru- 
ined tower  on  it,  and  each  meaning  that  here 
once  ruled  a  robber  knight  who  lived  by  the 
wrecks  on  his  shores;  for  here  are  the  famous 
rocks  that  cause  the  eddies  and  whirlpools  and 
rapids  called  Wirbel  and  Strudel.  We  slept 
the  night  opposite  Grein — a  rainy  night,  not 
calculated  to  raise  our  spirits.  After  a  cheer- 
less breakfast,  one  of  us  floundered  along  the 
frequently  flooded  tow-paths  in  the  hopes  of 
getting  a  glimpse  around  the  corner  of  this 
much-talked-of  ground  of  clanger;  but  it  was 
useless,  for  an  island  (Worth)  interfered. 

We  jumped  into  our  canoes,  resolved  to  make 
the  best  of  it,  stopped  our  ears  to  the  warnings 
of  friends  on  shore— forgetting  for  the  moment 


IOO  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

that  a  party  of  recent  canoeists  transferred  their 
boats  to  a  Danube  barge  at  this  place — stuffed 
our  most  valuable  papers  inside  our  waistbands, 
and  pushed  out  into  the  stream  in  search  of  the 
enemy.  Our  hatches  were  fastened  on  with 
particular  care,  our  sails  and  spars  carefully 
lashed  to  the  deck.  Nothing  was  omitted  to 
prevent  a  capsize,  or  at  least  to  render  one 
harmless. 

As  we  reach  the  dreaded  corner,  around 
which  we  anticipate  the  gyrating  monster  to 
lie  in  wait  for  us,  each  grasps  more  firmly  his 
trusty  blade,  plants  his  feet  solidly,  and  watches 
keenly  the  signs  of  the  stream.  Grein  disap- 
pears, with  its  castle,  its  spire,  its  many  holy 
shrines,  at  which  the  Danube  boatmen  pray 
before  venturing  on  these  troublous  reaches. 
The  spire  of  St.  Nikolai  peers  up  ahead — the 
little  church  built  by  the  offerings  of  such  as 
have  escaped  the  terrors  of  the  Strudel.  As 
we  hold  our  canoes  amidst  the  eddies  here, 
and  think  of  what  is  before  us,  a  dismal  boom- 
ing sound  greets  our  ears,  and  convinces  us 
that  now  at  last  our  fate  is  present.  Two  reck- 
less members  of  our  party  made  sketches  of 
St.  Nikolai  as  we  bob  up  and  down  in  the  rapid 
stream  before  her  rocky  ledge,  and  the  other 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  IOI 

notes  the  square  tower  of  lofty  Werfenstein, 
that  stretches  itself  up  and  over  the  black 
water.  An  ominous  word,  this  Werfenstein — 
the  rock-Jiurler — and  one  that  has  sunk  many 
a  good  ship  before  its  own  ribs  were  cracked. 

The  booming',  muffled,  roaring  sound  grows 
louder.  Will  this  preliminary  torture  never 
cease  ?  Surely  the  worst  must  soon  be  upon 
us;  for  we  have  passed  St.  Nikolai,  and  beyond 
us  is  another  robber  castle,  that  gives  us 
another  shiver  as  we  think  of  the  cruel  wrecks 
it  has  caused.  We  pass  another  spire,  another 
crucifix.  The  roaring  still  continues,  and  the 
water  grows  normally  smooth.  Can  this  be  the 
lull  before  the  storm  ?  we  ask  ourselves. 

No ;  we  have,  without  knowing  it,  passed 
both  Strudel  and  Wirbel,  and  the  booming  roar 
comes  from  the  boiler  of  a  powerful  tow-boat 
blowing  off  steam  against  the  bank! 


102  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

CHAPTER  XII 

WHY   WE   ALL   LOVE    THE    MAGYAR 

IT  was  a  hot  day,  but  not  disagreeably  so. 
A  light  breeze  swelled  the  sails  of  Caribee 
as  I  glided  wing  and  wing  at  the  rate  of  about 
eight  miles  an  hour  down  the  Danube  which  is 
here  three  miles  wide.  It  was  my  first  day  in 
Hungary;  I  seemed  to  have  suddenly  jumped 
into  a  country  thousands  of  miles  different  from 
anything  else  in  Europe.  Every  bend  of  the 
river  furnished  an  agreeable  surprise,  and  the 
day  was  too  short  for  the  many  different  things 
I  had  to  do.  In  one  hand  was  my  tiller,  in 
the  other  note-book  and  pencil;  between  my 
knees  were  my  big  ordnance  maps,  and  my 
toes  handled  the  main  sheet.  At  such  times 
as  this  I  felt  the  value  of  toe  training,  for  with- 
out other  crew  than  myself  hands  are  too  few 
for  the  duties  that  fall  upon  one  person.  The 
weather  was  fortunately  of  the  most  propitious, 
and  I  found  little  difficulty  in  managing  every- 
thing in  the  boat  without  shifting  my  comfort- 
able seat.  Indeed,  when  cruising  in  the  West 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  IO3 

Indies,  where  the  trade  wind  blows  steadily 
and  softly  I  have  had  to  do  all  this  and  hold 
besides  a  sun  umbrella  over  my  scorching  head 
— all  of  which  indicates  that  canoeing  may  be 
regarded  as  one  part  of  a  liberal  education. 

Huge  water  mills,  sometimes  as  many  as 
thirty  in  a  row,  were  notable  features,  though 
in  the  Hungarian  stretches  villages  are  so  rare 
or  at  least  removed  so  far  back  from  the  stream, 
that  these  noisy  mill  wheels  appear  often  to  be 
the  only  landmarks  of  civilization.  The  mill- 
ers speak  German,  of  course,  though  their 
names  are  now  well  magyarized;  that  is  to  say, 
the  Bamberger  and  Neumann  of  Austria  be- 
come here  Vambery  and  Nemenyi.  These 
mills  are  constructed  by  hanging  a  huge  wheel 
between  two  barges  anchored  in  the  swiftest 
part  of  the  current.  The  main  barge  contains 
the  grain  and  machinery  for  grinding  and  is 
the  dwelling  of  the  miller  and  his  family.  At 
a  distance  the  whole  thing  looks  much  like  the 
nursery  version  of  Noah's  Ark  with  an  improve- 
ment resembling  Fulton's  original  steamboat. 
They  are  at  any  rate  picturesque  features  of 
the  stream,  and,  what  is  more  to  the  point,  as- 
sist the  canoeist  in  finding  the  strongest  part 
of  the  channel. 


104  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

Nature  conspired  with  man  to  make  my  first 
day  in  Hungary  one  of  happy  memory.  The 
shores  were  never  dull — here  a  group  of  dam- 
sels in  gay  colors  have  come  down  to  the 
stream  for  a  swim  and  perhaps  some  laundry 
work;  further  on  I  hear  the  plaintive  music  of 
the  shepherd's  pipe,  and  steal  up  behind  him 
as  he  stalks  meditatively  along  playing  with 
all  his  soul,  unconscious  of  the  pleasure  he  is 
giving  to  others  besides  himself.  At  intervals 
are  seen  great  herds  of  cattle,  horses,  hogs; 
sometimes  they  are  in  the  water,  and  we  sail 
under  their  very  noses  to  the  great  amusement 
of  their  keepers.  Music  is  in  the  air  wherever 
there  is  a  Hungarian,  and  when  we  come  upon 
a  little  group,  their  presence  is  made  known 
first  by  their  bursts  of  song  or  speech.  How 
can  there  be  criminals  in  a  country  where 
every  one  makes  music  from  the  heart  ? 
Surely,  thought  I,  no  Hungarian  can  be  in 
prison  for  a  sordid  offence,  and  the  further  I 
sailed  on  this  happy  stream  the  more  did  I  feel 
confidence  in  this  thought. 

Lazying  along  in  this  fashion  I  approached 
a  group  of  men  at  a  point  where  there  was  no 
other  sign  of  a  village.  It  was  obviously  a 
holiday  of  some  sort,  for  these  Hungarians  had 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  10$ 

an  extravagant  number  of  bright  buttons  on 
their  jackets ;  they  were  not  barefooted,  but 
wore  very  handsome  top  boots  which  were 
obviously  not  for  comfort,  as  the  thermometer 
abundantly  proved.  On  their  heads  were  little 
round  black  felt  hats,  clean  and  tidy  ;  their 
trousers  were  so  loose  and  short  that  I  mistook 
them  for  skirts — particularly  as  they  are  made 
of  white  cotton.  Their  eyes  were  strikingly 
brilliant  and  small.  They  had  done  their  best 
to  make  their  long,  straight,  black  hair  lie 
smoothly.  Their  fierce  little  mustaches  were 
trimmed  with  military  precision  and  sharply 
waxed.  They  looked  soldierly,  manly,  enter- 
prising, independent — a  good  sort  to  be  with — 
and  so  I  ran  my  bow  ashore. 

They  spoke  to  me  in  their  own  tongue,  and 
finding  that  I  was  not  Hungarian,  one  was 
soon  discovered  who  knew  German.  With  him 
I  spent  a  couple  of  highly  interesting  hours. 
He  piloted  me  to  a  little  settlement  called  Do- 
burgaz,  I  believe,  where  there  was  an  inn — at 
least  a  public  house  capable  of  furnishing 
cheese,  bread,  sausage  and  excellent  rough 
country  wine.  My  host  of  the  riverside,  for  he 
treated  me  with  characteristic  Hungarian  kind- 
ness, proved  to  be  something  of  a  local  swell. 


106  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

and  wore  trousers  and  boots  of  the  national 
Hungarian  Hussar  pattern,  with  twisted  braid- 
ing down  the  front  of  the  thigh.  He  confided 
to  me  that  he  was  chief  of  the  local  fire  com- 
pany and  had  command  of  thirty-eight  volun- 
teer firemen — a  number  suggesting  a  probabil- 
ity that  the  whole  male  population  of  the  village 
must  be  enrolled  in  this  excellent  service. 
The  public  house  rapidly  filled  as  I  sat,  for  the 
news  had  gone  abroad  that  a  canoe  had  just 
arrived  from  America. 

Here  was  a  wine  room  packed  full  of  peas- 
ants on  a  hot  day  in  August.  Here  was  in 
their  midst  a  stranger  waif  knowing  not  a  word 
of  their  language.  I  could  not  help  thinking, 
with  some  mortification,  how  different  my  re- 
ception would  have  been  had  I  been  a  Hun- 
garian seeking  refuge  in  a  country  tavern  in 
either  England  or  the  United  States,  under 
similar  circumstances.  In  the  first  place  the 
smell  would  have  been  offensive  —  here  I 
noticed  nothing  of  the  kind.  Half  of  the  pa- 
trons of  our  Anglo  Saxon  tap-rooms  would  have 
been  stupid  from  drink — here  not  a  man  suf- 
fered; in  fact  my  peasant  host  had  his  three 
clean  and  well-dressed  little  daughters  about 
him  at  the  table.  The  peasants  in  Doburgaz 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  IO/ 

treated  me  with  obviously  natural  politeness, 
showed  not  the  slightest  disposition  to  bore 
me  with  impertinent  questions,  and  above  all, 
exercised  well-bred  restraint  in  criticising  the 
stranger  within  their  gates.  Tell  me,  ye 
canoeists,  ye  cyclists,  ye  pedestrians  of  my 
native  land,  which  one  of  you  can  match  my 
story!  And  when  I  tell  you  that  the  good 
people  of  Doburgaz  are  a  sample  of  all  the 
people  along  the  Hungarian  Danube  in  their 
courtesy  to  the  stranger,  will  you  not  agree 
with  me  that  it  is  a  very  paradise  for  the 
canoeist  ? 

In  parenthesis  I  may  as  well  say  that  the 
cyclist  and  pedestrian  had  better  try  some 
other  place,  for  the  roads  are  too  bad  alto- 
gether, not  much  better  than  the  dirt  roads  of 
America,  chokingly  dusty  in  dry  weather,  un- 
fathomably  muddy  at  other  times. 

Before  leaving  the  village  community  my 
Hungarian  host  asked  me  to  come  and  inspect 
his  fire  department,  to  which  I  of  course  cheer- 
fully agreed.  The  key  was  sent  for,  and  soon 
the  whole  village  marched  in  procession  to  a 
little  shed  which  contained  the  old-fashioned 
hand-pumping  fire  engine.  My  opinion  was 
kindly  asked  upon  this  machine,  to  which  I 


108  PADDLES    AND    POLITICS 

was  able  honestly  to  reply  that,  after  an  in- 
spection of  the  best  fire  engines  of  London 
and  New  York,  nothing  in  my  opinion  could 
surpass  the  one  of  Doburgaz  for  finish,  beauty, 
and  cleanliness.  The  chief  and  his  staff 
seemed  satisfied  with  this,  and  as  it  was  now 
time  to  start,  the  good  people  escorted  me  to 
the  place  where  I  had  left  Caribee,  and  bade 
me  good-bye  amidst  many  manifestations  of 
good  will. 

Here  is  one  little  glimpse  of  the  Hungarian 
— my  first  one. 

Not  many  days  afterward  another  glimpse 
was  offered  me,  this  time  in  a  different  social 
class.  Caribee  was  sailing  along  pleasantly 
through  the  magnificent  mountain  gorge  above 
Visegrad,  and  I  was  reading  in  my  note  book 
about  the  splendid  ruin  that  rears  its  rugged 
head  above  the  pretty  place.  It  is  one  of  the 
many  medieval  strongholds  that  revive  tales 
of  savage  conquest,  Christian  slaughter,  and 
final  desolation.  The  Austrian  Emperor — I 
beg  most  humble  pardon,  I  should  have  said 
the  King  of  Hungary — has  extensive  shooting 
forests  near  here;  and  the  late  Crown  Prince 
Rudolf,  whose  tragic  death  was  then  on  every 


DOWN  -nil-;  DANUBI-:  109 

one's  lips,  had  occupied  his  last  moments  in  re- 
storing the  grand  old  pile  for  a  summer  resi- 
dence. Its  commanding  position  in  the  midst 
of  scenery  that  eclipsed  everything  that  I  had 
so  far  seen  on  the  Danube  made  me  wish  to 
climb  up  these  rocky  sides. 

As  though  my  very  wish  had  been  divined, 
I  had  not  more  than  formulated  this  desire  in 
my  own  mind  than  I  noticed  in  my  path  a 
Thames  skiff  rowed  by  a  young  man  in  boating 
flannels,  and  an  exceedingly  graceful  young 
lady  correspondingly  attired.  The  coxswain 
was  a  lady  who  proved  to  be  the  mother  of  the 
gallant  crew,  and  she,  as  spokesman  of  the 
party,  greeted  Caribee,  invited  its  crew  ashore, 
urged  us  to  partake  of  refreshments  in  a  charm- 
ing villa  by  the  water's  edge,  introduced  us  to 
a  party  of  most  attractive  acquaintances, 
pressed  us  to  spend  the  night  under  her  hus- 
band's roof — at  least  to  stay  to  supper;  in 
short,  behaved  toward  us  as  to  a  long-lost  son 
returned  again. 

It  would  have  been  breaking  faith  with 
Cai'ibee  to  have  spent  a  night  anywhere  but 
on  the  bottom  boards  of  her  floor,  and  we 
naturally  declined  all  conflicting  engagements. 
It  was  also  against  our  principles  to  sup  any- 


110  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

where  but  in  camp.  But  what  we  could  we 
did;  we  begged  to  see  the  mighty  ruin  under 
the  most  favored  conditions,  that  is  to  say,  in 
the  company  of  such  kind  hosts.  So  off  we 
trudged  up  the  steep  mountain  side,  chatting, 
singing,  laughing  as  though  we  had  known 
each  other  for  years  instead  of  minutes.  In 
the  party  were  several  young  ladies  from 
Budapesth,  obviously  high  bred,  beautiful  in 
face  and  figure,  charming  in  manner,  clever  in 
conversation,  women  who  had  spent  the  win- 
ter in  the  round  of  court  entertainment,  and 
now  climbed  rocks  with  the  agility  of  ante- 
lopes. There  was  something  unaffectedly 
jolly  about  this  impromptu  party,  something 
rompy,  and  at  the  same  time  thoroughly 
"  correct." 

In  America  the  type  is  known,  the  girl  who 
forsakes  formal  conventionality  in  summer 
and  captivates  ballrooms  in  the  winter;  who 
drives  with  her  male  friends,  canoes  with 
them,  flirts  with  them,  does  everything  she 
chooses,  but  never  chooses  to  do  anything 
which  either  could  regret.  This  type  still 
lives  in  America,  the  despair  of  the  British 
matron,  the  bugbear  of  the  Faubourg  St. 
Germain.  Her  innocent  and  charming  co- 


DOWN    TMK    DANUBE  III 

quetry  I  found  again  on  the  Danube;  the  same 
grace  of  movement;  the  habit  of  free  inter- 
course ;  ease  in  conversation ;  piquant  yet 
modest  banter — all  this  and  much  more — for 
these  young  ladies  of  Hungary  were  accom- 
plished to  a  degree  that  would  have  made  a 
Boston  blue-stocking  envious. 

Arrived  at  the  top,  a  picnic  was  improvised 
by  roasting  some  ears  of  corn  that  had  been 
brought  along.  The  rambling  ruin  was  ex- 
plored; and  this  afforded  another  good  oppor- 
tunity for  the  display  of  agility.  The  story  of 
the  castle  was  retold,  but  I  shall  not  refer  to  a 
guide-book  at  such  a  moment  as  this. 

Coming  down  the  mountain  I  found  myself 
bounding  through  the  thickets,  leaping  from 
rock  to  rock,  dodging  rotten  branches  with  two 
companions  who  were  bent  upon  demonstrat- 
ing the  unquestioned  fact  that  man  is  inferior 
to  woman  in  all  exercises  requiring  grace  and 
speed.  Fortunately  I  had  been  brought  up  in 
an  equally  mountainous  and  rocky  country,  or 
I  should  have  been  hopelessly  disgraced  in 
their  eyes.  But  it  was  delightful  to  watch  them 
fly  through  the  underbrush,  every  step  inviting 
a  catastrophe.  Their  hats  hung  at  their  backs, 
their  long  tresses  waved  behind  them,  their 


112  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

skirts  got  many  a  rent,  their  faces  glowed  with 
exhilaration — they  were  very  living  wood- 
nymphs  sporting  with  a  clumsy  mortal  whom 
they  were  leading  to  destruction  !  Our  wild 
dance  soon  brought  us  to  the  rendezvous  near 
the  base,  and  we  found  ourselves  alone,  evi- 
dently far  in  advance  of  the  main  body.  To 
reconnoitre,  I  climbed  into  the  branches  of  a 
tree;  but  this  my  graceful  partners  could  not 
stand,  so  they  too  climbed  with  me,  racing  for 
the  top  brancii.  They  climbed  like  middies, 
and  enjoyed  it  vastly  more.  Soon  we  heard 
the  voices  of  the  others,  and  decided  to  stay 
where  we  were  in  order  to  give  them  a  surprise. 
Imagine  the  situation,  my  dear  chaperons  of 
sober  latitudes;  two  beautiful  leaders  of  fash- 
ion perched  with  me  in  the  top  of  a  forest-tree 
calmly  awaiting  their  chaperons,  for  the  pleas- 
ure of  giving  them  a  pleasant  little  surprise. 
In  my  ignorance  of  Hungarian  good  sense  I 
thought  the  older  ladies  of  the  party  would 
faint  with  the  shock  when  the  surprise  struck 
thcm.  They  did  nothing  of  the  sort;  on  the 
contrary,  they  thought  the  young  people  rather 
clever  for  having  climbed  so  well. 

We  had  rather  a  time  of  it  getting  down,  as 
one  partner  caught  in  a  broken  branch,  and  at 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  113 

one  moment  threatened  to  remain  a  prisoner. 
She  managed  to  get  clear,  however,  and  all  the 
way  to  the  river's  bank  we  kept  up  the  race, 
laughing  and  joking  over  the  day's  adventure. 


Just  one  more  little  glimpse  of  Hungary — 
the  subject  is  so  pleasant !  Nor  let  the  reader 
imagine  that  these  examples  I  cite  are  ex- 
traordinary— I  can  duplicate  them  indefinitely. 
Japan  gave  me  my  first  idea  of  what  Hungary 
might  be,  and  Herman  Melville  has  left  an 
immortal  tribute  to  nature's  gentlewoman  in 
his  delicious  tale  of  the  South  Seas,  called 
Typee.  But  the  best  of  the  far  East  is  tame 
compared  with  the  Hungarian  Danube.  Wo- 
man may  be  physically  and  spiritually  an  an- 
gel; but  she  cannot  people  one's  heaven  if  her 
mind  cannot  furnish  intellectual  companion- 
ship. The  Magyar  maiden  is  as  graceful,  as 
refined,  as  gentle  as  the  Daimio  damsel;  she  is 
as  proud,  as  active,  and  as  stately  as  the  choic- 
est of  Melville's  Happy  Valley.  She  is  all  this 
and  vastly  more,  for  her  mind  is  richly  stored, 
and  her  accomplishments  reflect  centuries  of 
artistic  training. 

But  this  is  a  digression.      I   was  sailing  lei- 


114  PADDLKS   AND   POLITICS 

surely  along  the  river  below  Budapesth,  the 
evening  my  heart-strings  were  wrung  by  part- 
ing with  the  good  fellows  at  the  Neptune  Club. 
The  soft  light  of  the  waning  sun  was  dancing  in 
the  little  waves  about  my  bows;  pretty  peasant 
girls  were  pounding  linen  along  the  shores  with 
skirts  gracefully  tucked  up  above  the  knees;  I 
was  sighing  over  my  desolate  state,  and  wonder- 
ing if  I  should  ever  again  dance  as  I  had  danced 
once  before,  when  hark  !  the  strains  of  a  gypsy 
band  greeted  my  excited  ear.  Yes,  it  was  the 
real  gypsy  music,  and  it  was  dance  time  at  that. 
I  quickly  passed  the  point  that  had  concealed 
the  object  of  interest  from  me,  and  saw  ahead 
a  picnic  in  full  swing;  such  a  picnic  as  only 
Hungary  can  create.  Handkerchiefs  waved, 
as  I  came  nearer.  I  fumbled  in  my  side-pocket, 
pulled  out  an  American  ensign  as  big  as  my 
mizzen,  and  hoisted  it  with  as  much  speed  as 
was  consistent  with  considerations  of  safety. 
The  waving  on  shore  continued,  not  merely 
with  handkerchiefs,  but  shawls,  napkins, 
aprons,  anything  that  promised  to  attract  at- 
tention. I  sailed  close  along  shore,  wondering 
what  the  excitement  meant,  and,  when  near 
enough,  was  hailed  by  a  gentleman  of  the 
party.  He  said  that  he  was  deputed  by  the 


DOWN   THK    DANUBE  115 

rest  of  the  company  to  invite  me  ashore  to 
share  in  the  picnic  ! 

Politeness  made  me  feebly  protest  against 
invading  their  happy  entertainment,  but  in  the 
end  I  lowered  my  sails,  made  Caribee  fast,  and 
was  shaking  hands  with  my  new-found  host. 
He  was  a  barrister  from  Budapesth.  The  com- 
pany consisted  of  intimate  friends,  also  from 
the  same  city,  celebrating  together  some  anni- 
versary. I  presented  him  with  my  card,  he  pre- 
sented me  with  his.  Then  followed  formal  pre- 
sentation to  the  ladies,  commencing  with  the 
most  venerable,  and  descending  to  Miss  —  — , 
who  was  to  make  her  debut  in  society  the  next 
season,  and  who,  no  doubt,  made  a  huge  suc- 
cess. At  any  rate  I  shall  never  forget  her 
dancing.  We  had  not  known  each  other  five 
minutes  when  away  we  flew  with  the  gypsy 
music  under  our  heels,  stamping,  shouting, 
spinning,  reeling,  swaying,  singing,  turning, 
and  twisting  in  the  dance  of  dances,  the  elixir 
of  perpetual  youth,  the  inspiring  Tschardasch. 

Little  Miss danced  like  an  angel,  and 

overlooked  all  my  blunderings. 

But  I  had  almost  forgotten  the  feasting  in  the 
pleasure  of  the  dance.  There  was  of  course  a 
splendid  lunch:  cold  chickens,  salads,  fruit,  and 


Il6  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

plenty  of  good  wine.  The  host  rose  in  the  midst 
of  the  meal,  and,  with  raised  glass,  referred  to 
the  pleasure  they  felt  at  having  a  stranger 
amongst  them  to  whom  they  could  show  Mag- 
yar hospitality.  It  was  then  my  turn,  but  what 
could  I  say?  My  heart  was  too  full  for  speech.  I 
told  them  that  their  big  table,  strong  as  it  was, 
would  break  into  splinters  did  it  have  to  sustain 
the  weight  of  gratitude  I  felt  for  all  the  kind- 
ness I  had  received  from  the  brave  and  beau- 
tiful Hungarians;  that  I  was  carrying  home 
with  me  memories  of  a  land  where  all  the  men 
were  manly,  all  the  women  angels;  that  heaven 
must  be  full  of  Hungarians,  and  that  I  could 
imagine  no  greater  beatitude  than  cultivating 
the  friendships  I  had  formed  amidst  so  happy 
a  people. 

A  cynic  might  think  I  was  rhapsodizing.  But 
then  who  cares  what  a  cynic  thinks  ! 

I  need  not  give  any  more  illustrations  of  the 
hospitality  I  met  with  amongst  these  generous 
Magyars.  To  have  the  key  to  one  Hungarian 
heart  is  to  have  the  key  to  all.  You  approach 
them  as  a  chance  stranger;  you  part  from  them 
in  tender  friendship. 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  1 1? 

CHAPTER  XIII 

A   NIGHT    OF   REVELRY    NEAR    BUDAPESTH 

WHEN  a  stranger  comes  from  a  far  coun- 
try with  a  bare  card  of  introduction  the 
man  to  whom  he  presents  it  is  apt,  if  he  dwells 
in  this  part  of  the  world,  to  see  how  little  he  can 
do  in  the  way  of  entertainment  and  yet  not  ap- 
pear mean.  He  probably  consults  his  wife,  and 
in  the  end  gets  up  a  little  dinner  in  his  guest's 
honor.  He  may,  in  addition  to  this,  send  the 
stranger  a  few  complimentary  cards  to  func- 
tions of  questionable  interest ;  and  heaves  a 
sigh  of  relief  when  a  card  of  farewell  is  left  at 
his  door. 

So  much  for  our  latitudes  ! 

On  arriving  in  Budapesth  for  the  first  time  in 
my  life,  I  had  the  meagrest  possible  card  of  in- 
troduction to  a  Hungarian  gentleman.  It  was 
given  me  by  a  friend  in  Vienna  who  had  but  a 
slight  acquaintance  with  either  of  us.  I  have 
no  right  to  publish  private  names  and  will 
therefore  affectionately  call  him  Lajos,  which  is 


Il8  PADDLES    AND   POLITICS 

the  Hungarian  equivalent  for  Louis.  Now  I 
must  not  fail  to  add  that  Lajos  is  a  man  over- 
burdened with  official  cares  ;  of  enormous 
social  duties — that  I  had  no  claim  of  any  kind 
whatsoever  upon  him  excepting  the  universal 
desire  of  the  tourist  to  plague  the  good-natured 
native. 

As  I  look  back  upon  those  marvelous  Dan- 
ube days  from  the  confined  workshop  in  which 
I  am  sorting  my  notes,  Magyar  faces  crowd 
upon  me — strong,  manly,  liberty-loving  types 
of  high-bred  and  courteous  gentlemen.  It  is  a 
proud  recollection,  that  of  having  known  such 
men  in  such  a  part  of  the  world,  where  the 
future  of  Europe  and  civilization  is  at  stake, 
and  where  the  battle  with  Russian  barbarism 
may  some  day  be  fought.  And  from  this  throng 
of  worthies  one  stands  out  with  particular 
prominence — the  genial,  rotund,  joyous  Lajos; 
always  worried,  always  joking  ;  always  work- 
ing, always  singing  ;  the  one  who  never  dic- 
tates and  whom  all  love  to  follow. 

Am  I  wrong?  If  I  am,  Lajos  himself  is  the 
only  one  who  will  accuse  me  of  my  error. 

Every  hour  of  every  one  of  the  happy  days  I 
spent  in  the  Hungarian  capital  is  associated 
with  the  goodness  of  Lajos.  I  will  only  refer 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  I  IQ 

to  one  day,  however,  by  way  of  illustrating 
what  the  Magyar  means  by  hospitality. 

Under  date  of  Aug.  2,  1891,!  find  this  memo- 
randum in  my  note  book: — "Started  at  II 
o'clock  for  an  excursion  up  the  river  with  Lajos 
and  his  guests.  He  says  we  shall  be  back 
early  this  evening." 

We  did  not  get  back  until  the  following 
morning  at  7,  but  that  by  the  way  ! 

Lajos  had  secured  a  beamy  and  comfortable 
steamer,  had  invited  about  fifty,  had  loaded  his 
craft  with  luxuries  of  cellar  and  pantry,  and 
had  provided  a  band  of  gypsies  capable  of  fid- 
dling the  very  conscience  out  of  a  bishop. 
There  were  old  and  young  in  the  party  ;  fa- 
thers and  sons,  mothers  with  daughters  as 
beautiful  and  graceful  as  themselves — and  that 
is  saying  a  great  deal  in  a  country  where  beauty 
increases  with  years,  and  youth  is  born  with 
beauty.  Muscular  members  of  the  famous 
Neptune  Rowing  Club  were  with  us  and  one  or 
two  gallant  officers  who  had  won  laurels  in  '48 
fighting  for  the  liberties  of  their  country.  The 
gathering  was  one  which  for  grace  and  beaut}' 
on  the  dancing  floor  could  not  have  been 
equaled  at  the  hops  of  Newport  or  West  Point 
— can  one  say  more  ?  I  never  for  a  moment 


120  PADDLES    AND    POLITICS 

suffered  for  my  ignorance  of  the  melodious 
Magyar,  for  everyone  appeared  to  speak  with 
ease  at  least  three  languages  besides  their  own. 
If  I  have  one  of  the  gentle  sex  looking  at  this 
page,  permit  me  to  say  that  the  fashionably 
dressed  dames  of  Piccadilly  and  Fifth  Avenue 
appear  dowdy — postively  behind  the  times — 
compared  with  the  ladies  of  Budapesth.  Here, 
at  least,  every  woman  is  an  artist  in  dress. 
This  being  a  subject  on  which  I  am  apt  to  get 
out  of  my  depth,  I  hasten  to  add  that  I  know  a 
very  competent  authority  on  this  point — a 
woman  at  that,  and  one  not  at  all  biased,  as  I 
may  be. 

No  sooner  on  the  boat  than  at  once  com- 
menced the  music  and  the  feasting.  Lajos  did 
not  tell  me  so,  but  I  learned  subsequently  that 
all  of  the  catering  for  this  large  and  very  hungry 
party  was  personally  superintended  by  his  sister, 
a  young  lady  who  embodies  all  that  is  national 
and  lovely  in  the  Hungarian  character.  As  I 
have  mentioned  no  names,  and  no  one  knows 
to  whom  I  refer,  I  may  explain  what  the  Hun- 
garian young  lady  counts  as  the  usual  ac- 
complishments of  her  sex.  Of  course  the  com- 
mon education  of  the  ordinary  schools,  the 
smattering  of  literature,  history,  etc.  Then  she 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  121 

is  invariably  a  good  musician — not  a  piano 
strummer,  but  one  who  grows  up  in  an  atmos- 
phere where  music  is  the  interpreter  of  daily 
feeling.  The  Hungarian  sings  as  we  dull  mor- 
tals talk.  Some  sing  better  than  others,  but  none 
sing  as  badly  as  our  performing  amateurs. 
Then  as  a  housekeeper,  what  a  treasure  is  the 
Hungarian  !  She  can  teach  her  cook  every- 
thing worth  knowing,  relieve  her  when  neces- 
sary, manage  the  house  into  the  bargain,  and 
never  once  let  her  guests  suspect  that  she  ever 
gives  it  a  thought.  Where  the  Anglo-Saxon 
mistress  retires  to  her  bedroom  to  cry  with 
vexation,  the  Hungarian  lady  fills  the  house 
with  her  melody,  and  concocts  a  new  sauce  to 
the  tune  of  a  tschardasch.  It  makes  my  blood 
boil  to  hear  my  countrywomen  speak  of  such 
women  as  household  drudges  because  they 
manage  their  own  houses  !  They  would  be 
put  to  the  blush  could  they  see  some  of  those 
they  thus  allude  to  on  the  floor  of  the  ballroom. 
Indeed,  nothing,  I  am  convinced,  would  con- 
duce so  much  to  making  our  girls  happy  and 
physically  vigorous,  as  to  give  them  some  of 
the  useful  occupation  enjoyed  by  their  own  sex 
in  Hungary. 

The  feast  was,  like  all  Hungarian  feasts,  de- 


122  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

licious.  It  was  the  breakfast,  to  be  followed 
by  many  more  meals  before  finally  separating. 
How  Mile,  de  Lajos  possibly  managed  all 
these  spreads,  especially  as  she  danced  every 
minute  that  she  was  not  superintending  the 
service,  remains  still  a  mystery  to  me — but 
that  she  did  this  is  well  attested. 

The  gypsy  band  was  composed  of  three  vio- 
lins, a  'cello,  a  basso,  and  the  famous  national 
instrument  that  looks  roughly  like  an  enor- 
mous zither,  and  is  played  by  striking  the 
strings  with  soft  hammers.  The  music  made 
us  impatient,  even  at  such  a  feast.  One  after 
the  other,  feet  began  to  pat,  and  before  the 
meal  was  done  couples  were  adrift  amongst 
the  tables,  carried  away  by  the  musical  magic. 

Here  was  the  first  triumph  of  the  gypsies,  a 
people  who  care  nothing  for  money  —  and 
everything  for  success.  They  commenced  by 
dragging  us  from  well-filled  tables,  and  for  the 
whole  of  that  day,  and  the  whole  of  the  night 
they  played  at  us,  around  us  and  into  us  with- 
out a  sign  of  weariness,  resting  only  at  inter- 
vals for  food  and  drink. 

The  gypsies  were  playing,  it  seemed,  for  the 
very  love  of  their  art  more  even  than  for  the 
dancers.  They  warmed  up  to  a  condition  of 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  123 

mental  intoxication  as  the  wailing  violin  led 
them  in  cadences  from  one  mood  to  the  other. 
One  moment  the  measure  was  martially  heroic, 
the  next  the  leader's  eyes  half  closed  as  the 
harmony  floated  away  into  a  love  song;  again 
it  awoke  to  a  ballet-like  movement,  then  it 
changed  once  more  to  the  despairing  cries  of  a 
rejected  lover;  after  this,  perhaps,  a  savage 
hymn  would  weave  itself  across  the  time  of  the 
motive;  but  in  the  end  there  was  always  one 
conclusion — the  capriciously  regular,  the  sav- 
agely tender,  the  buoyantly  plaintive,  the  way- 
wardly  winning,  the  most  captivating  of  har- 
monies, the  most  maddening  of  ecstasies — the 
rapid,  surging,  swaying,  tossing,  inflammatory 
tschardasch  ! 

It  is  all  this,  and  vastly  more.  What  a  poor, 
cold-blooded  wretch  like  myself  can  feel  is 
small,  of  course;  but  that  little  something  is 
an  ocean  beside  the  puddle  of  exhilaration  rep- 
resented in  the  average  ballroom  of  our  fash- 
ionable life. 

Why,  the  very  players  in  Hungary  succumb 
to  the  spell  they  themselves  create.  Their 
eyes  speak  the  emotions  they  are  invoking 
upon  their  listeners;  they  burst  into  song  like 
happy  children,  and  sway  in  unconscious 


124  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

rhythm  to  the  cadence  of  their  instruments; 
their  faces  lighten  and  darken  as  the  mood 
sweeps  over  their  strings.  Can  dancers  tire 
while  the  players  are  putting  their  very  life 
into  the  sounds  that  stir  their  blood  ? 

At  last,  however,  the  gypsies  themselves 
leave  their  seats;  they  can  no  longer  keep 
themselves  down  while  twinkling  feet  are 
flashing  before  them.  First,  the  leader  is  seen 
moving  amidst  the  couples,  singing,  swaying, 
fiddling  madly,  drawing  his  intoxicating  bow- 
up  to  the  very  ears  of  those  he  selects  for  this 
much-coveted  distinction.  The  second  and 
then  the  third  follow,  keeping  all  the  while 
perfect  accord  one  with  the  other,  yet  none 
apparently  conscious  of  the  other's  presence. 
All  are  animated  by  the  same  spirit,  and  that 
to  a  gypsy  appears  to  be  sufficient. 

What  is  the  tschardasch  ?  I  do  not  know — 
save  that  it  is  the  most  completely  satisfactory 
dance  in  the  world.  The  lady  rests  her  hands 
lightly  upon  the  cavalier's  shoulders,  he  in 
turn  holding  her  at  the  belt.  Otherwise  the 
two  dancers  do  not  come  into  personal  con- 
tact. Fortunately  for  me  the  muscular  activity 
incident  to  canoeing  the  Danube  from  Donau- 
eschingen  to  this  point  made  me  feel  fit  for  a 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  125 

boat  race;  and  a  tschardasch  being  only  one 
degree  more  wearing  that  a  four-mile  pull  in 
twenty  minutes,  I  was  able  to  enter  into  the 
dance  with  less  chances  of  mortification  than 
most  outsiders.  Gentle  hands  and  engaging 
language  little  by  little  overcame  habitual  shy- 
ness, and  before  I  knew  it  my  feet  were  nim- 
bling  about  as  freely  and  happily  as  those  of  the 
rest — myself  recklessly  indifferent  as  to  how 
far  my  movements  were  in  accord  with  the 
best  traditions  of  the  masters  in  this  art. 
From  the  dancing  I  saw,  it  seemed  to  me  that 
the  Hungarian  national  dance  is  one  that  can 
be  danced  in  a  hundred  different  ways,  accord- 
ing to  the  strength,  agility,  age  or  fancy  of  the 
performer.  The  couple  may  move  sedately 
from  beginning  to  end,  their  feet  working  as 
methodically  as  in  a  common  waltz;  if  they 
please,  however  (and  they  generally  do),  each 
couple  soon  finds  elbow  room  necessary,  and 
makes  energetic  use  of  it. 

As  the  music  becomes  more  exciting,  the 
spirits  of  the  dancers  rise;  the}-  break  away 
from  one  another,  and  dance  off  and  on  with 
the  prettiest  of  fancy  steps,  each  as  it  were 
coquetting  with  the  other,  the  lady  eluding 
and  then  approaching  her  cavalier.  They 


126  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

dance,  now  demurely,  now  wildly;  hands  are 
raised;  hats  and  handkerchiefs  are  waved; 
shouts  ring  out;  the  steps  are  sometimes  like 
those  of  a  reel,  at  other  times  like  any  kind  of 
a  jig;  but  throughout  most  perfect  time  is  kept; 
that  is  to  say,  perfect  harmony  with  the  mad 
music  of  the  gypsies. 

If  my  recollection  serves  me  I  danced  every 
dance  without  exception  from  beginning  to 
end,  and  I  have  already  said  that  we  danced 
the  day  and  night.  Under  no  other  condition 
could  I  have  done  such  a  thing. 

At  some  time  in  the  afternoon  an  elaborate 
dinner  \vas  served,  at  which  much  was  eaten, 
more  was  drunk,  and  many  speeches  made.  The 
Hungarians  never  drink  excepting  to  a  senti- 
ment, and  hence  it  is  that  I  never  saw  a 
drunken  man  during  the  many  days  I  spent  in 
their  company.  Many  were  the  toasts  pledged, 
and  some  that  touched  me  deeply  because  of 
the  kindly  things  said  by  my  host,  to  which 
of  course  I  was  expected  to  answer  as  best  I 
could.  We  bumped  to  the  glory  of  Hungary; 
the  friendship  of  our  respective  countries;  the 
memory  of  the  immortal  George  Washington; 
the  brave  Kossuth,  and  his  fellow-patriots  of 
'48;  the  Triple  Alliance  and  the  King  of 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  I2/ 

Hungary  (who  is  sometimes  known  as  the  Em- 
peror of  Austria).  All  who  spoke  did  so  with 
grace  and  fluency,  and  it  would  be  indeed  a 
fortunate  gathering  in  my  own  country  that 
could  have  brought  forth  better  after-dinner 
speeches  under  corresponding  circumstances. 

There  was  plenty  of  singing,  of  course,  much 
merriment,  and  no  end  of  private  toasts  to  in- 
dividual good  health. 

In  any  other  country  it  might  be  expected 
that  half  at  least  of  the  company  would  be 
overcome — but  here  was  nothing  of  the  kind. 
Strange  as  it  may  sound,  not  a  single  Hun- 
garian showed  the  slightest  trace  of  the  wine 
consumed;  not  a  word  or  action  was  out  of 
harmony  with  the  habitual  good  breeding  and 
delicacy  of  the  true  Hungarian.  The  dancers 
might  shout  and  laugh  and  sing  and  commit  the 
most  extravagant  steps,  but  not  one  was  guilty 
of  offending  any  of  the  ladies  present. 

After  the  dinner  we  had  segars,  brandy  and 
coffee,  and  then  more  music — but  there  were 
some  who  thought  that  we  might  find  a  larger 
dancing  space  on  shore.  It  was  already  dark, 
but  our  Lajos  promptly  had  the  boat  brought 
to  land,  and  one  of  the  party  was  deputed 
to  hurry  to  the  nearest  village  to  see  what 


128  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

dancing  space  could  be  secured  More  music 
and  dancing  followed  until  he  returned  with 
the  news  that  he  had  secured  a  peasant's 
threshing  floor  for  our  use. 

So  then  we  all  marched  to  the  village,  pre- 
ceded by  torches  and  the  gypsies.  The 
way  was  not  easy  to  follow,  but  by  the  help  of 
ship's  lanterns  we  at  length  reached  the  barn- 
yard, and  were  \velcomed  not  only  by  the  pro- 
prietor, but  by  no  less  personages  than  the 
mayor  and  chief  judge  of  the  place.  Here 
was  another  evidence  of  the  popularity  which 
Lajos  enjoyed  in  the  neighborhood  of  his 
native  town. 

The  gypsies  ensconced  themselves  cozily  at 
one  end  of  the  room;  boards  spread  on  bar- 
rels were  soon  loaded  with  flagons  of  good 
honest  red  wine,  and  in  a  trice  the  whole  party 
was  once  more  spinning  about  as  though  this 
was  the  first  dance  of  the  evening,  and  time 
was  very  short.  Our  floor  was  but  dirt  well 
beaten  down  by  generations  of  bare  feet;  the 
sides  of  our  hall  were  open  to  all  the  world, 
and  for  that  matter  the  whole  village  had 
turned  out  to  watch  the  revels,  and  listen  to 
the  beloved  music  of  the  gypsies.  The  scene 
was  weird  in  the  extreme — trees,  houses,  peas- 


DOWN    THE    DAXUBK  1 29 

ants,  gypsies,  dancers,  all  glinting  in  the  wavy 
light  of  the  fitful  candles  that  were  disposed  at 
intervals.  Of  course  the  magnates  of  the  vil- 
lage were  called  upon  to  drink  by  the  hospi- 
table Lajos;  they  made  us  a  speech  of  welcome 
to  which  we  responded  in  terms  of  friendship. 
On  my  part  I  could  but  say  that  the  boundless 
hospitality  I  had  enjoyed  at  the  hands  of 
Magyars  was  a  type  of  the  good  relations  ex- 
isting between  their  government  and  mine,  a 
friendship  which  I  ventured  to  hope,  without 
committing  our  foreign  department,  would 
never  be  disturbed.  The  justice  and  mayor 
treated  the  ceremony  as  seriously  as  though 
peace  and  war  hung  in  the  balance,  and  when 
the  last  drop  was  drained  there  could  have 
been  no  native  of  that  village  who  did  not  feel 
that  peace  had  been  reestablished  in  spite  of 
the  McKinley  Bill. 

Dance,  dance,  dance — there  was  no  end  to 
it;  nobody  wanted  a  seat,  nobody  wished  to 
stop,  except  now  and  then  to  pledge  his  part- 
ner in  a  bumper.  At  last,  however,  I  do  not 
know  at  what  o'clock,  the  signal  was  given  to 
return  on  board  the  steamer;  whether  the 
hour  was  too  late  for  the  village,  or  that  the 
wine  was  exhausted,  I  shall  never  know. 


130  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

With  the  gypsies  at  our  head,  the  whole  vil- 
lage carrying  lanterns  on  our  wings,  and  the 
prettiest  partner  in  Hungary  on  my  arm,  we 
once  more  threaded  our  way  to  the  river  bank, 
and  amidst  singing  and  cheering  and  many 
kind  messages,  pushed  off  into  the  stream. 

Another  supper  was  awaiting  us  on  deck; 
once  more  the  music  put  wings  to  our  feet — in 
short,  when  we  touched  the  landing  stage  of 
the  capital  it  was  only  in  time  for  breakfast  of 
the  following  day.  We  separated — I  at  least 
did — with  the  feeling  that  henceforth  my  hap- 
piness must  be  made  up  of  memories;  that 
never  could  so  much  exhilaration  be  crowded 
into  the  same  space  of  time  anywhere  else  in 
the  wide  world.  All  \vhom  I  knew  on  that 
eventful  night  had  become  dear  friends,  and  to 
part  from  them  was  hard,  very  hard. 

But  part  I  had  to,  and  within  a  few  hours  I 
was  once  more  at  the  float  of  the  Neptune 
Rowing  Club.  The  lockers  of  Caribee  were 
stored,  and  with  ensign  flying,  and  sails  spread 
to  the  fresh  breeze,  we  sailed  away  once  more 
down  the  mighty  stream  out  amongst  the  un- 
certainties of  another  day.  Some  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  club  escorted  us  a  short  distance 
and  left  us  after  giving  three  hearty  cheers. 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  13! 

Sadly  I  worked  my  way  down  through  the 
bustling  shipping  of  this  restless  port,  almost 
regretting  that  I  was  not  capsized  by  one  of 
the  many  tugs  dashing  about  me.  I  wanted 
an  excuse  for  putting  back. 

So  good-bye,  Budapesth,  Queen  of  the  Daji- 
ube,  and  mistress  of  every  heart !  Good-bye, 
my  jolly  oarsmen  of  the  Neptune,  and,  finally, 
God  bless  the  roof  that  shelters  the  family  of 
our  good  Laios  ! 


132  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 


CHAPTER   XIV 

HOW     THE     HUNGARIAN     PEASANTS     ENTER- 
TAINED   US 

IN  the  southwesterly  corner  of  Hungary, 
near  the  Slavonian  border,  and  not  far 
from  the  meeting  of  Bosnia  and  Servia,  Cari- 
bee  was  stowed  comfortably  away  in  a  shed  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Franzens  Kanal,  while  her 
skipper  danced  for  ten  hours  with  the  most 
graceful  peasant  girls  that  he  had  so  far  en- 
countered. The  good  Lajos  of  Budapesth  once 
more  turned  up  as  guardian  angel,  and  under 
his  chaperonage  I  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Monostorszeg,  a  village  whose  people  are  not 
Hungarian,  not  Turkish,  not  Bosnian,  not 
Servian,  but  who  illustrate  the  good  qualities 
of  all.  Lajos  says  they  are  Szokaz,  whatever 
that  may  mean.  I  hope  it  is  complimentary, 
for  they  dance  like  angels,  have  beautiful  olive 
complexions,  dress  to  perfection,  are  as  active 
as  antelopes,  speak  in  melodious  notes,  wel- 
come the  stranger  with  every  manifestation  of 
good  will,  and  behave  with  tact  and  good 
breeding.  What  more  can  I  say? 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  133 

Our  particular  host  on  this  occasion  was  a 
prosperous  peasant  who  had  spent  twenty 
years  of  his  life  in  jail  for  brigandage,  a  hand- 
some, soldierly  looking  man.  who  seemed  to 
command  great  respect,  and  who,  I  was  as- 
sured, was  an  ornament  to  the  society  in 
which  he  now  moved.  Lajos,  at  any  rate, 
spoke  well  of  him,  and  that  was  enough  for 
me.  , 

We  invaded  his  ranch  shortly  after  noon., 
but  as  it  was  harvest  time,  old  and  young  of 
both  sexes  were  out  in  the  fields.  Swift  mes- 
sengers were,  however,  immediately  despatch- 
ed to  announce  our  arrival,  the  gypsy  band 
was  summoned,  wine  and  food  was  ordered, 
and,  before  the  news  of  the  day  had  been  ex- 
changed and  digested,  the  spacious  courtyard 
began  to  fill  with  the  honored  guests  of  our 
brigand  chief.  Wine,  food,  and  music  arrived 
as  if  by  magic.  With  the  first  strain  of  the 
fiddle  nimble  feet  commenced  to  pat,  and  soon 
the  great  earth  floor  was  waving  in  a  mass  of 
gorgeous  coloring,  for  no  one  in  Monostorszeg 
cared  a  fig  about  the  harvest  as  compared  with 
a  dance  on  the  threshing-floor. 

As  the  time  wore  on  toward  evening  the; 
great  gates  of  the  yard  swung  open  for  pigs, 


134 


PADDLES   AND  POLITICS 


cattle,  and  other  animals  seeking  the  accus- 
tomed shelter  at  sundown.  Great  was  the  sur- 
prise they  manifested  at  seeing  the  transforma- 


THK   PEASANTS   COMMENCKD   TO   DANCK. 

tion  that  had  taken  place.  The  dancers  were, 
however,  not  in  the  least  disconcerted;  the)' 
danced  to  one  side  as  the  beasts  crossed  the 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  135 

ballroom  floor,  then  closed  up  again,  and  went 
on  to  the  merry  time. 

At  last  arrived  the  landlord's  daughter, 
perched  on  top  of  a  huge  load  of  hay  drawn  by 
oxen.  She  was  of  rare  beauty,  and  about  eigh- 
teen years  old.  She  was  greeted  with  enthu- 
siastic welcome,  being  evidently  a  favorite; 
and  from  her  lofty  perch  she  smiled  down  upon 
the  upturned  faces  with  the  frank  smile  of  a 
child  accustomed  to  receive  worship  of  this 
kind.  To  describe  her  is  to  describe  all  of  the 
beauties  who  danced  on  that  memorable  Satur- 
day until  the  first  hour  of  the  following  Sabbath. 
She  was  barefooted,  but  then  all  the  Szokaz 
girls  have  beautiful  little  feet,  as  well  as  hands. 
She  tripped  down  from  the  top  of  the  hay  with 
remarkable  agility,  and  immediately  shook 
hands  with  her  father's  guests. 

Her  dress  consisted  of  a  single  piece  of  mus- 
lin or  cheese-cloth,  that  draped  her  splendidly 
moulded  form  with  classic  elegance,  and  in  no 
wise  hampered  the  native  grace  of  her  motions. 
A  girdle  about  six  inches  wide  sat  loosely  about 
her,  and  served  to  heighten,  if  possible,  the 
statuesque  character  of  her  attire.  The  garment 
as  a  whole  was  diaphanous,  at  first  perhaps 
startlingly  so,  but  was  worn  with  such  complete 


136  PADDLES    AND    POLITICS 

innocence  anc  artless  grace  as  to  excite  only 
admiration  in  the  impartial  critic.  Along  the 
hips  from  the  belt  downward  was  a  broad  band 
of  open  work  revealing  the  delicate  skin  be- 
neath, and  suggesting  somewhat  the  garment 
of  Cleopatra,  as  exhibited  recently  by  fashion- 
able actresses.  Her  appearance  was  the  more 
interesting  to  me  as  she  was  obviously  in  her 
every-day  field-dress,  and  not  even  a  boating- 
man  could  have  wished  anything  more  untram- 
meled.  On  the  day  following  she  went  to 
church  in  a  costume  bewildering  from  the  mul- 
tiplicity of  barbarous  adornments  of  a  costly 
nature;  but  such  an  array  inevitably  produces 
self-consciousness,  even  in  a  beauty  of  Hun- 
gary. 

The  dancing  here  was,  if  possible,  a  trifle 
more  wild  than  on  any  previous  occasion;  the 
peasant  girls  had  finished  their  work  for  the 
week,  were  full  of  rollicking  spirit,  and  danced 
with  an  energy  and  grace  simply  irresistible. 

It  was  after  midnight  when  we  said  good- 
night to  our  partners.  From  high  noon  to  that 
hour  the  fiddling  never  flagged;  nor,  for  that 
matter,  the  eating  and  drinking.  It  seems  to 
me  now,  as  I  look  back  on  that  tropical  sum- 
mer, that  I  danced  myself  through  the  heart  of 


DOWN    THE    DANUBK  137 

•Hungary,  and  was  a  faithless  partner  to  C ar- 
id ee. 

The  ball  was  opened  by  six  maidens  who, 
with  hands  on  one  another's  shoulders,  formed 
in  line  and  danced  a  jig  time  in  unison,  sway- 
ing back  and  forth,  to  one  side  and  the  other, 
pattering  their  little  bare  feet  with  exquisite 
effect — in  fact,  reproducing  a  picture  of  Japan, 
probably  the  only,  country  that  can  match 
Hungary  for  grace  in  woman.  Pretty  soon 
men  took  their  partners,  and  the  national 
tschardasch  was  struck  up.  Ah,  what  a  dance 
that  is !  Wilder  and  wilder  grew  the  music; 
more  and  more  madly  moved  the  little  feet; 
hands  were  clapped;  happy  shouts  pierced  the 
air;  the  couples  separated,  and  returned,  cut- 
ting fancy  figures  of  the  most  coquettish  nature 
in  mock  efforts,  the  one  to  elude,  the  other  to 
win  the  partner  back  again.  All  were  happy 
as  children  in  the  delight  of  the  moment,  and 
Mrs.  Grundy,  for  the  time  being,  appeared  to 
have  taken  a  back  seat. 

No  one  was  drunk  on  that  night,  though  the 
generous  Lajos  made  wine  free  to  all,  from  the 
brigand  chief  to  his  emptiest  guest.  The  in- 
toxication that  seized  upon  old  and  young  alike 
sprang  entirely  from  the  naturally  enthusiastic 


138  PADDLES    AND    POLITICS 

nature  of  all  who  live  under  Hungarian  influ- 
ence. 

Some  people  think  they  know  what  excite- 
ment means,  when  they  have  heard  college 
boys  after  a  foot-ball  match;  there  was  a  time 
when  I  thought  no  enthusiasm  could  match 
that  which  burst  out  at  the  corner  of  the  old 
fence  "  'neath  the  elms  "  when  dear  old  Yale 
beat  Harvard  in  the  four-mile  boat  race.  I 
have  seen  reverend  dignitaries  of  the  Church 
shouting  themselves  red  in  the  face,  as  they 
encouraged  their  college  boats  in  bumping 
matches  on  the  Isis  or  the  Cam.  But  these 
manifestations  of  feeling,  compared  with  what 
I  saw  on  the  Danube,  were  as  the  efforts  of  a 
night-light  to  the  full  blast  fires  of  a  trans- 
atlantic steamship. 

In  one  very  effective  dance  a  large  ring  was 
formed  by  both  sexes  and  all  ages.  The  mai- 
dens placed  their  hands  on  the  men's  shoulders, 
these  in  turn  holding  the  belts  of  the  fair  ones. 
The  music  played  a  lively  national  reel,  and  all 
danced  the  measure  in  perfect  time,  though 
the  greatest  freedom  prevailed  as  to  the  par- 
ticular steps  permitted.  At  times  the  whole 
circle  closed  with  a  rush,  and  again  flew  apart 
to  its  greatest  extent.  Now  the  dancers  swayed 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  139 

around  in  one  direction  and  then  back  in  the 
other.  The  clever  dancers  became  at  once 
conspicuous  by  the  variety  which  they  intro- 
duced into  their  steps,  and  some  would  have 
done  credit  to  the  corps  de  ballet. 

The  fashionable  dancing-floor  of  modern  life 
is  to  me  rather  a  sad  picture  of  mistaken  en- 
joyment. No  one  but  the  very  young  appears 
to  be  having  a  good  time,  and  not  all  of  these. 
Here,  however,  everyone  seemed  happy  as 
happy  could  be,  and  nimble  Lajos  the  happiest 
of  them  all.  I  could  not  resist  the  contagion 
of  spontaneous  joy  on  all  sides  of  me,  and,  so 
far  as  I  know,  made  no  particular  efforts  in 
that  direction. 

When  darkness  came  on  a  few  candles  were 
disposed  here  and  there,  two  on  the  table 
where  the  food  and  wine  were  displayed,  two 
under  the  narrow  veranda  which  ran  along 
one  side  of  the  house,  and  perhaps  one  or  two 
more.  Compared  with  the  spaces  requiring 
illumination,  the  light  was  not  strong,  and  for 
much  of  the  time  we  were  dancing  in  the  dark 
amidst  the  different  articles  of  husbandry  usu- 
ally collected  about  the  threshing-floor  of  a 
peasant  estate. 

Around  the  circle  of  revelers  stood  fathers 


140  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

and  mothers  holding  babies  aloft,  for,  appar- 
ently, there  was  here  no  fixed  age  of  coming 
out.  When  the  mother  joined  in  the  dance  the 
father  held  the  chick,  and  he  in  his  turn  danced 
when  his  wife  was  through.  The  best  of  good 
nature  prevailed,  and  the  courtesy  between 
peasant  and  peasant  was  as  noticeable  as  that 
toward  the  invading  stranger. 

When  the  formal  feast  took  place  late  in  the 
evening  healths  were  drank  with  vociferous 
enthusiasm.  Our  ex-brigand  host  poured  out 
his  soul  in  a  welcoming  speech;  we  drank  to 
his  prosperity,  his  beautiful  daughter,  to  Hun- 
gary, to  Kossuth  and  to  many  others  that  I 
cannot  remember. 

In  what  other  country  could  strangers  in- 
vade a  village  of  free  peasants,  invite  them  to 
a  ball,  treat  them  to  wine,  dance  with  their 
sweethearts  and  wives  for  ten  hours,  behave 
with  reckless  indifference  to  every  considera- 
tion save  the  enjoyment  of  the  moment,  and 
say  good-bye  at  midnight  without  having  been 
able  to  notice  the  faintest  trace  of  undue  famil- 
iarity, let  alone  rudeness,  on  the  part  of  any- 
one present  ?  Each  peasant  appeared  to  un- 
derstand perfectly  what  a  well  -  bred  host 
expected  of  him,  and  I  felt,  when  parting  for 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  141 

the  night,  that  I  was  leaving  behind  me  a  so- 
ciety more  enlightened  on  what  pertains  to  the 
amenities  of  social  intercourse  than  I  have  been 
able  to  find  at  the  average  of  "  crushes  "  in  the 
large  cities  of  either  hemisphere — excluding, 
of  course,  always  Japan. 

It  is  almost  impertinent  to  add  that  the  Hun- 
garian lady  is  modesty  itself,  and  that  every 
woman  in  Hungary  is  a  lady  in  this  regard. 
The  so-called  "  smart "  world  has  much  to 
learn  from  the  peasants  of  the  lower  Danube, 
for  there  are  girls  who  do  not  have  to  be 
"fast"  in  order  to  show  the  glories  of  their  sex 
to  the  best  advantage.  For  real  style  and 
good  company  I  will  back  my  Szokaz  angel  on 
the  load  of  hay  against  the  belles  of  a  New 
York  or  London  drawing-room;  and  for  manly 
graces  the  Piccadilly  buck  is  a  baby  compared 
with  my  ex-brigand  of  Monostorszeg. 

Good-night,  then,  sweet  girls  of  Hungary. 
Happy  are  the  Magyar  husbands,  and  if  they 
are  not  it  must  be  that  they  are  strangely  un- 
grateful ! 


142  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

CHAPTER  XV 

SOME    NOBLE   GYPSIES 

IT  was  at  the  close  of  a  glorious  day  in  Au- 
gust, somewhere  near  the  junction  of  the 
Francis  Canal  and  the  Hungarian  Danube,  that 
I  first  made  the  acquaintance  of  a  gypsy  family. 
Of  course  I  had  seen  plenty  of  them  in  other 
parts  of  the  world — who  has  not  ?  But  on  the 
occasion  I  now  speak  of,  the  gypsies  were,  so 
to  speak,  at  the  height  of  their  civic  existence, 
I  might  almost  say  at  the  headquarters  of  their 
tribal  organization. 

The  gypsies,  like  the  Laplanders,  the  North 
American  Indians,  and  other  strange  families 
of  the  great  human  race,  do  not  like  to  be  stared 
at.  They  are  proud  and  shy  in  their  own  way; 
and  to  the  stranger  apt  to  be  offensive.  When 
I  was  first  allowed  to  enter  a  Lapp  hut;  hold  a 
Lapp  baby  in  my  arms;  bask  in  the  crackling 
smile  of  a  Lapp  maiden,  and  extract  autographs 
from  Lapp  chiefs,  I  felt  that  I  had  not  visited  in 
vain  the  Arctic  regions  of  Norway. 

In  the    British   northwest  territory  of  Mani- 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  143 

toba  I  once  was  so  fortunate  as  to  draw  a  noble 
red  man  into  forensic  argument.  His  speech 
I  did  not  understand;  but  in  so  far  as  sonorous 
language,  dignified  carriage,  dramatic  gesture, 
modulated  inflection  and  flashing  eyes  can  as- 
sist an  orator,  I  am  quite  sure  that  for  once  at 
least  I  had  to  do  with  one  of  nature's  Glad- 
stones. I  prized  my  experience  highly  be- 
cause the  American  Indian  hates  the  white 
man  instinctively. 

For  that  matter  the  Lapp  shares  this  feeling 
of  animosity,  and  for  the  same  reason.  Both 
have  been  for  generations  crowded  slowly  but 
surely  out  of  the  territory  they  consider  as 
their  property;  both  are  always  in  the  wrong 
when  seeking  justice  at  the  hands  of  their  white 
despoilers;  both  have  come  to  look  upon  every 
white  man,  whether  Norwegian  or  American, 
as  one  of  the  enemy. 

The  gypsy  sympathizes  with  the  Lapp  and  the 
Indian,  for  he  too  is  a  prowler — I  mean  a 
nomad.  He  hates  every  government  that  does 
not  spring  from  the  consent  of  his  immediate 
family.  Policemen,  tax-gatherers,  game-keep- 
ers— all  such  parasites  of  civilization  are  to  him 
odious.  He  needs  plenty  of  room,  he  likes  to 
pitch  his  camp  where  he  chooses,  light  his  fire 


\44  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

without  interference,  live  his  own  life  in  his  own 
way. 

In  the  closely  settled  states  of  Europe  he 
cannot  do  this  in  a  dignified  manner;  all  the 
conditions  under  which  he  is  obliged  to  move 
force  him  into  the  category  of  tramps  and  vaga- 
bonds; the  people  he  meets  look  upon  him 
askance  as  one  who  steals  anything  he  can  lay 
hold  of,  from  children  to  chickens.  His  love  of 
liberty  is  not  understood — and  what  savage  can 
sustain  the  reputation  of  dignity  when  he  is 
only  seen  through  the  dust  of  suburban  roads  ? 

In  Hungary  the  gypsy  is  understood  and  by 
no  means  despised.  His  music  the  Magyar 
adores.  There  is  land  enough  for  all  here,  and 
camping  out  in  the  open  is  not  treated  as  a 
crime  against  society.  The  Magyar  is  a  fight- 
ing man,  a  sportsman,  a  lover  of  out-door  life; 
to  him  the  gypsy  is  a  rational  creature;  and  in 
return  the  gypsy  of  Hungary  shows  nobler 
qualities  than  in  those  countries  where  he  is  the 
object  of  constant  and  petty  persecution. 

We  drove  to  this  settlement,  and  here  I 
must  again  tell  how  much  I  am  indebted  to 
my  dear  Lajos.  His  real  name  I  have  con- 
cealed, for  he  shares  with  most  good  men  the 
quality  of  shyness.  Lajos  had  already  done 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  145 

more  than  the  kindest  of  friends  when  he 
piloted  us  amidst  the  pleasures  of  Budapesth. 
But  he  was  not  content  to  stop  there,  and 
when  I  reached  the  mouth  of  the  famous  canal 
that  joins  Danube  and  Theiss,  whom  should  I 
see  at  the  first  lock  but  the  happy  face,  the 
sparkling  eyes,  the  laughing  mouth  of  Lajos  ! 
Remember,  please,  that  Lajos  is  a  very  im- 
portant official  in  the  Hungarian  capital;  that 
he  is  an  overworked  director  in  a  great  steam- 
ship company;  that  his  time  is  golden. 

But  then  there  is  but  one  Lajos  ! 

He  had  chartered  a  wagon  to  drive  to  the 
gypsies.  There  were  no  roads  to  charter,  or 
we  should  have  had  one.  There  was,  how- 
ever, plenty  of  soil,  and  no  proprietary  rights 
obtruded  themselves.  Our  wagon  had  four 
wheels  and  a  wickerwork  body,  somewhat  like 
the  country  wagon  in  vogue  all  over  Austria 
and  Germany — much  used  for  hunting  parties. 
Our  driver  wore  the  little  national  round  black 
felt  hat;  his  dress  was  a  loose  cotton  shirt, 
very  open  in  front,  a  broad  leather  belt,  short 
white  cotton  trousers,  loose  enough  to  make 
two  skirts.  Like  the  rest  of  the  Magyar  na- 
tion he  wore  fierce  little  mustaches,  and  looked 
fit  for  a  crack  cavalry  troop. 


146  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

Our  horses  took  their  own  line  across  coun- 
try, for  it  made  little  difference  to  us  whether 
our  wheels  were  off  or  on  the  trail.  Our  jour- 
ney reminded  me  of  some  excursions  I  once 
made  on  the  edges  of  Dakota,  when  we  steered 
by  compass  over  the  virgin  prairie.  The  har- 
ness of  our  team  was  very  light — Dutch  collars 
and  rope  traces.  The  animals  took  their  own 
gait,  now  trotting,  now  galloping,  for  they 
seemed  to  have  a  perfect  understanding  with 
their  driver  that  they  were  going  as  far  as  the 
gypsy  settlement,  and  that  the  sooner  they 
covered  the  distance  the  better  for  them  as 
well  as  for  us. 

During  the  wrhole  of  my  Danube  cruise — at 
least  as  far  as  the  Turkish  part — I  have  noticed 
so  much  gentleness  and  willingness  on  the 
part  of  the  horses,  that  I  am  disposed  to  con- 
clude that  they  are  cared  for  in  a  particularly 
humane  and  sensible  way.  In  spite  of  the  fact 
that  Englishmen  and  Americans  appreciate  a 
good  horse,  there  is  an  enormous  amount  of 
unconscious  cruelty  practised  in  those  coun- 
tries, the  result  of  which  is  seen  in  the  large 
proportion  of  spiritless  or  vicious  beasts  that 
were  once  promising  colts.  Whether  this 
cruelty  springs  from  ignorance  or  heartless- 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  147 

ness,  the  results  are  the  same.  There  are  few 
big  stables  in  England  or  America  where  the 
visitor  has  not  to  be  warned  against  kicking  or 
biting  beasts — in  the  army  as  well  as  elsewhere. 
Here,  and  all  over  Germany,  the  stranger  can 
go  amongst  horses  as  securely  as  amongst 
cows  and  sheep.  Often  as  I  have  entered 
groups  of  cavalry  horses  in  the  German  army, 
never  yet  has  anyone  thought  it  necessary  to 
suggest  that  I  should  take  precautions  against 
kicks  or  bites. 

We  bounced  along  over  the  Hungarian 
fields,  floundering  through  hog  wallows,  dodg- 

O  O  O  <-» 

ing  holes,  and  at  last  drew  up  on  the  edge  of  a 
grove.  Here  we  alighted,  and  in  a  few  mo- 
ments noticed  a  cluster  of  rudely  made  huts — 
this  was  the  gypsy  camp. 

The  king  of  the  tribe,  with  his  queen,  greet- 
ed us  in  the  most  solemn  and  gracious  man- 
ner. Each  kissed  my  hand  in  turn,  pressing 
it  afterward  to  the  forehead.  The  other  mem- 
bers of  the  family  recognized  in  this  a  sign 
that  we  were  to  be  treated  as  guests,  and  im- 
mediately manifested  a  disposition  to  gratify 
all  our  legitimate  desires. 

The  huts  were  not  interesting.  They  were 
such  as  any  squatters,  provided  with  a  few 


148  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

boards,  would  have  built  under  similar  circum- 
stances. The  people  themselves  absorbed  my 
attention — first  of  all,  the  little  baby  asleep  in 
the  kneading-trough,  surrounded  by  self-satis- 
fied geese,  who  clucked  their  heads  all  around 
its  cradle,  picking  up  the  crumbs  from  the  last 
meal.  Near  by  was  the  proud  father  with  a 
huge  axe  like  an  executioner's.  He  wras  en- 
gaged in  shaping  another  wooden  trough.  In 
fact,  the  whole  village  was  engaged  in  this  in- 
dustry, for  a  large  number  of  wooden  troughs 
were  heaped  up  ready  for  the  market;  and 
lumber  was  piled  near  by,  out  of  which  more 
troughs  were  to  be  carved.  These  gypsies,  at 
least,  had  a  visible  means  of  support,  and  a 
very  useful  one  at  that.  They  were  not  horse 
traders,  and  obviously  had  stolen  no  children 
—or  if  they  had,  the  latter  were  of  their  own 
race. 

And  what  splendid  children  they  showed 
me  !  Strong,  sinewy,  graceful  little  boys  and 
girls,  with  beautiful  big  eyes,  features  of  re- 
fined classic  mould — little  people  such  as  we 
loved  to  see  in  fairy  books  as  princes  and 
princesses,  and  how  they  could  dance  ! 

I  asked  the  gypsy  king  if  he  would  not  favor 
us  with  some  music  and  dancing.  No  sooner 


DOWN   THE   DANUBE  149 

was  my  request  made  known  than,  as  though  by 
magic,  the  penetrating  note  of  a  violin  was 
heard.  It  was  quickly  tuned;  a  venerable  gyp- 
sy minstrel  took  his  seat  on  the  stump  of  a 
tree;  a  few  bars  were  struck;  the  children  be- 
gan to  pat  the  floor;  the  music  quickened;  the 


THE    KING   OF   THE   GYPSIES    MAUIi    HIS    PtOl'LE    DANCE    KOK   US. 


ISO  PADDLES    AND    POLITICS 

children  paired  off;  boys  and  girls  faced  each 
other;  the  time  was  a  weird  jig  measure — soon 
the  little  settlement  was  dancing  madly,  ab- 
sorbed in  the  intoxicating  delight  of  the  fierce 
movement.  Eyes  snapped,  muscles  played, 
feet  flew  in  and  out.  The  crazy  reel  became 
contagious;  one  after  the  other  the  older  mem- 
bers forgot  the  dignity  of  the  host,  and  whirled 
away  with  twinkling  feet  to  compete  with 
the  little  ones  for  the  white  stranger's  ap- 
plause. Wilder  and  wilder  fiddled  the  old 
man;  more  and  more  madly  danced  the  young- 
sters. They  clapped  their  hands;  they  burst 
out  into  cries  of  triumph  and  encouragement,  the 
boys  slapped  their  legs,  then  clapped  their 
hands  over  their  heads  as  though  they  were 
beating  tambourines;  they  knocked  their  heels 
together  as  they  flew  about;  they  slapped  their 
feet  on  either  side;  they  indulged  in  every 
acrobatic  eccentricity  consistent  with  main- 
taining the  dance  rhythm — in  short,  they  did  all 
that  a  negro  clog-dancer  does  and  vastly  more. 
Nor  did  the  little  girls  fall  behind  the  boys  in 
grace  and  agility.  Their  behavior  was  less 
boisterous,  but  their  legs  flew  up  and  about 
with  a  dexerity  and  case  seldom  surpassed  on 
the  serio-comic  stage.  They  trod  the  most 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  151 

complicated  of  step  measures  with  delicious 
assurance  and  rapidity — and  when,  at  last,  the 
fiddle  ceased,  the  applause  from  the  spectators 
was  most  vociferous  and  prolonged. 

For  my  part  I  was  simply  amazed  by  the 
marvelous  dancing  I  saw  in  this  gypsy  encamp- 
ment. Looking  about  at  fathers  and  mothers, 
however,  I  found  no  occasion  to  wonder  that 
the  children  were  beautiful  and  well-shaped. 
A  young  mother  with  whom  I  had  a  chat  here 
was  one  of  the  finest  creatures  I  had  ever  seen — 
not  mere  common  beauty,  but  features  of  ab- 
solutely classic  symmetry,  lines  which  we  con- 
sider the  embodiment  of  high  breeding  in 
womankind.  Du  Maurier  has  reproduced  the 
queen  of  the  London  drawing-room,  and  ideal- 
ized the  highest  product  of  modern  good  so- 
ciety. Even  he,  a  man  of  the  world  and  a 
thorough  gentleman,  has  not  put  on  paper  a 
type  of  woman  more  beautiful  in  expression, 
more  classic  in  lines,  more  sinuous  in  move- 
ment, more  erect  in  carriage — and  lastly — 
more  aristocratic  in  bearing  than  the  mothers 
of  the  little  urchins  \vho  danced  for  me  in  the 
most  savage  corner  of  Hungary. 

It  was  delightful  to  see  the  loving  interest 
taken  bvthe  brothers  and  fathers  in  the  women 


152  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

and  children — and  they  were  men  worth  look- 
ing at.  Not  one  appeared  to  be  less  than  six 
feet  high.  Their  figures  were  slight  but  strong; 
their  features  were  marked  by  the  same  signs 
of  breeding  and  beauty  characterizing  the 
women;  they  were  pictures  of  good  health. 
They  wore  their  hair  flowing  in  waves  upon 
their  shoulders;  slight  mustaches  curled  to  the 
corners  of  their  mouth,  and  a  short  wavy  beard 
shaded  the  lower  line  of  the  face.  Their  ex- 
pression was  full  of  dignity  and  gentleness, 
blended  with  melancholy.  Several  of  them 
might  have  been  studied  from  the  life  and  treat- 
ed as  the  ideal  Hamlet.  The  Christs  of  Ary 
Scheffer  and  Dore  were  suggested  to  me  as  I 
looked  into  these  interesting  faces.  From 
another  point  of  view  the  features  of  these  gyp- 
sies were  those  of  the  Arab  chief  as  we  know 
him  on  canvas  at  the  highest  stage  of  his 
civilization. 

Had  I  met  these  men  in  the  halls  of  a 
seat  of  learning,  dressed  in  academic  gowns 
and  surrounded  by  the  insignia  of  their  ex- 
alted profession,  I  should  have  exclaimed: 
"  How  fortunate  the  college  that  has  drawn 
to  its  support  men  whose  face  and  bearing 
so  amply  reflect  the  calm  of  philosophic  in- 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  1 53 

quiryand  the  wisdom  of  accumulated  knowl- 
edge !  " 

Yet  here  they  were,  cutting  kneading  troughs, 
dressed  in  a  single  piece  of  home-made  stuff, 
living  like  the  native  of  two  thousand  years 
ago,  and  ignorant  of  conventional  knowledge 
to  a  degree  that  suggests  the  Egyptian  dark- 
ness that  gave  them  birth. 

Such  are  the  contradictions  of  life.  Gypsy 
sages  who  do  not  know  the  alphabet;  Oxford 
dons  living  for  the  sake  of  their  stomach.  Latin 
and  Greek  do  not  give  a  man  wisdom,  and 
around  the  fire  of  these  gypsies  were  heads 
that  belonged  to  philosophers  and  prophets. 


154  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 


CHAPTER    XVI 

HUNGARIAN    HARVESTERS  —  ALSO    A     LITTLE 
SPORT 

LAJOS,  like  most  generous  spirits,  is  so 
modest,  that  it  was  only  indirectly  that 
I  learned  of  his  heroism  during  the  great  floods 
of  the  river  Theiss,  near  Szegedin,  in  1879. 
When  the  news  of  the  suffering  reached  him  in 
Budapesth,  he  did  not  wait  for  committees  or 
subscription  lists,  but,  loading  a  steamer  with 
meat,  drink,  and  blankets,  away  he  puffed  for 
the  scene  of  disaster,  and  for  days  and  nights 
exposed  his  life  in  saving  others,  ministered  to 
their  wants  and  brought  sunshine  into  scores 
of  families  living  in  the  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death. 

Lajos  thought  I  might  like  to  look  at  Szege- 
din, that  being  a  thoroughly  typical  center  of 
Magyar  life,  whereas  Budapesth  is  rather  cos- 
mopolitan than  Hungarian.  So  away  we 
steamed  from  the  Danube  to  the  Theiss  by  the 
famous  Francis  Canal. 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  155 

On  the  first  night  we  were  the  guest  of  the 
governor  of  the  district.  I  mention  this  to  il- 
lustrate the  hospitable  disposition  of  the  peo- 
ple. The  night  following  we  spent  at  the 
house  of  the  chief  engineer  of  the  canal,  a 
Hungarian  gentleman,  who  spared  no  pains  in 
ministering  to  our  happiness.  His  charming 
wife  and  amiable  daughters  received  us  like 
members  of  the  family;  the  evening  meal,  an 
elaborate  dinner,  was  served  on  the  veranda, 
looking  out  upon  a  fragrant  garden  full  of 
many  varieties  of  luscious  fruits  and  fragrant 
flowers.  Our  health  was  drunk  in  wine  of  ex- 
quisite quality.  Our  host  had  in  his  house 
ample  evidence  of  his  skill  as  a  sportsman — 
heads  of  bears,  wolves,  deer,  and  many  others. 
In  his  stables  I  found  horses  of  excellent 
blood. 

A  feature  of  his  establishment  that  impressed 
me  most  pleasantly  was  a  bath-house  located 
beneath  the  overflow,  at  the  side  of  the  canal 
lock.  Here  the  bather  worked  his  way  with 
an  effort  into  the  rushing  waterfall,  and  held 
on  tight  to  the  wall  of  rock,  while  his  whole 
frame  tingled  with  the  shock  of  the  cascade. 
Swimming  has  its  charms,  but  for  exhilaration, 
and  at  the  same  time  an  appetite-provoking 


156  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

tonic,  nothing  I  know  of  can  exceed  the  buffet- 
ing I  got  under  the  weir  of  this  Hungarian 
lock. 

On  the  following  morning  our  host  of  the 
night  before  became  the  guest  of  Lajos  on 
board  of  the  steamer,  but,  hearing  that  I  was 
fond  of  shooting,  he  brought  along  some  fowl- 
ing pieces  and  an  ample  supply  of  cartridges. 
The  guns  were  ranged  at  the  forward  rail;  we 
sat  and  chatted  under  the  awning  under  the 
hurricane  deck.  Our  boat  made  scarcely  any 
noise,  a  light  breeze  was  against  us,  and  we 
had  a  capital  view  of  the  broad  stretches  ahead 
of  us.  The  country  was  full  of  wild  fowl,  and 
the  guns  were  rarely  idle.  We  popped  away 
from  morning  till  night,  scarcely  stopping  for 
the  noble  lunch  which  Lajos  provided.  At 
every  bend  new  sport  greeted  us— hawks, 
herons,  coots,  wild  duck,  loons,  hell  divers, 
gulls  of  many  kinds — these  were  some  of  the 
game  we  bagged.  Our  spry  little  steward  was 
kept  busy  in  the  dingey  rowing  off  to  find  what 
we  had  brought  down.  Before  the  day  closed 
I  made  up  my  mind  that  this  canal  was  worth 
revisiting — with  a  canoe,  a  gun,  and  a  re- 
triever. 
.  Szegedin  is  more  Hungarian  than  Budapesth, 


DOWN   THE   DANUBE  157 

as  Kieff  is  more  Russian  than  St.  Petersburg. 
It  spreads  itself  over  the  great  alluvial  plains 
of  the  Theiss  valley  in  squares  and  streets  as 
broad  and  long  as  those  of  a  Western  town. 
The  streets  of  Szegedin  are,  however,  kept 
clean,  the  buildings  show  much  taste,  the 
shops  indicate  widely  distributed  prosperity, 
and  the  noble  river  looks  as  though  it  never 
could  have  behaved  otherwise  than  as  a  docile 
transporter  of  produce  through  the  heart  of 
this  splendid  granary. 

Szegedin  appealed  to  me  most  sympathetic- 
ally, however,  when  my  good  Lajos  drove  me 
a  few  miles  away  to  what  appeared  to  be  a 
town  of  golden  domes,  from  the  midst  of  which 
rose  vast  clouds  of  incense.  The  inhabitants 
one  might  imagine  to  be  engaged  in  Oriental 
worship  from  the  humming  sound  that  wafted 
toward  us  in  the  morning  stillness.  The  scene 
reminded  me  of  a  visit  I  once  paid  in  Pekin  to 
the  great  Lama  Temple,  the  sacred  city  of 
Buddhism,  in  which  a  vast  multitude  of  crouch- 
ing priests  drone  away  their  lives  in  repeating 
monotonous  nonentities.  The  great  plain  of  Pe- 
kin is  like  that  of  Szegedin — the  gilded  domes 
of  both  countries  appeared  to  me  veiled  in 
atmospheric  density — but  there  the  parallel 


158  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

ceased.  As  we  came  nearer  to  the  golden  city 
I  saw  that  great  stacks  of  straw  were  here 
congregated;  that  the  prayerful  hum  proceeded 
from  steam-threshers,  and  the  cloud  of  incense 
from  the  chaff  of  the  winnowers  blending  with 
the  engine  smoke.  My  dream  had  passed,  but 
left  a  still  more  pleasing  reality. 

We  jumped  out  and  wandered  from  dome  to 
dome,  from  stack  to  stack.  Here  the  govern- 
ment maintains  a  large  threshing  tract,  which 
serves  in  a  measure  as  an  agricultural  ex- 
change. Peasants  drive  to  this  point  from 
many  miles,  bringing  with  them  their  families 
and  as  much  grain  as  their  teams  can  haul. 
They  camp  out  here  for  the  busy  season,  and 
combine  with  their  own  work  as  much  more  as 
can  add  to  the  profit  of  their  stay. 

First  of  all,  they  reserve  their  threshing- 
ground  by  driving  a  distinguishing  stake  into 
it,  their  right  being  respected  as  completely  as 
that  of  a  passenger  leaving  his  satchel  on  a 
railway  seat.  The  next  thing  is  to  thresh  and 
winnow  their  load,  which  they  may  do  either 
by  paying  one  of  the  great  steam-threshers,  or, 
if  they  cannot  afford  that,  by  acting  in  the  pa- 
triarchal manner:  that  is  to  say,  the  pair  of 
horses  is  driven  round  and  round  over  the  grain 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  159 

until  the  berries  fall  out.  These  are  then 
swept  up  and  tossed  into  the  air  by  the  shovel- 
ful. The  chaff  blows  away  while  the  berries 
fall  in  a  clean  shape  to  the  ground.  These  are 
then  put  into  sacks,  and  are  ready  for  market. 

The  steam  operation  is  of  course  the  one  an 
American  prefers  when  he  runs  a  farm  for 
profit.  But  the  Yankee  doing  Hungary  in  a 
canoe  is  happy  to  take  an  object  lesson  in  agri- 
culture as  practiced  in  the  days  of  Pharaoh. 
And,  in  truth,  in  a  country  where  horses  are 
as  abundant  as  in  Texas,  where  father,  mother, 
sisters  and  brothers  work  together  in  the  fields, 
where  labor  is  very  cheap  and  machinery  very 
dear,  there  is  much  to  be  said  for  the  patri- 
archal system. 

I  questioned  one  group,  consisting  of  two 
men,  one  woman,  one  boy  and  two  horses. 
This  party,  working  together,  earned  six  gul- 
dens (say  three  dollars)  a  day.  If  each  of  the 
group  shared  equally,  that  would  give  fifty 
cents  apiece  for  the  day's  work — a  moder- 
ate reward,  to  be  sure.  Yet,  considering  what 
fifty  cents  will  buy  them  there,  I  am  not  sure 
that  they  would  be  happier  if  transplanted  to 
New  Jersey  or  Long  Island. 

The  woman  wrore  but  a  single  piece  of  cot- 


160  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

ton  belted  at  the  waist — a  garment  which  did 
not  materially  interfere  with  the  free  swing  of 
her  graceful  body  as  she  tossed  the  red  berries 
aloft.  All  were  of  course  barefooted,  and  the 
men  wore  a  garment  only  a  shade  less  simple 
than  that  of  the  women. 

Here,  by  the  way,  and  for  that  matter  along 
the  lower  Danube  in  general,  the  women  share 
the  outdoor  work  of  men.  They  do  not,  how- 
ever, show  to  disadvantage  in  consequence — on 
the  contrary,  I  venture  to  think  that  the  hand- 
somest of  the  continent  are  to  be  found  along 
this  great  waterway — handsome  not  merely  in 
feature  and  expression,  but  exhibiting  in 
every  movement  of  their  graceful  and  erect 
figures  the  evidence  of  wholesome  physical 
exercise.  In  North  Germany  there  are  too 
many  good  women  bent  in  the  back,  pre- 
maturely wrinkled  and  dragged  to  the  earth 
by  drudgery.  Such  spectacles  did  not  force 
themselves  upon  me  during  this  journey,  I  am 
happy  to  say.  How  much  is  due  to  education, 
how  much  to  blood,  how  much  to  climate,  I 
dare  not  determine.  There  is,  however,  in  the 
woman  of  this  neighborhood  a  something 
which  makes  man  unwilling  to  see  her  harmed. 
She  works  in  the  open  air  because  such  work 


DOWN    THE    DAM' UK  l6l 

develops  her  physical  powers,  but  no  Hunga- 
rian would  like  to  see  her  burdened  to  a  point 
where  toil  begins  and  elasticity  ends. 

Every  traveler  visiting  the  West  Indies  notes 
the  elastic  tread  and  excellent  physical  pro- 
portions of  the  black  women  there,  due  princi- 
pally to  the  constant  open-air  exercise  they 
get.  And  as  this  exercise  is  of  a  light  and 
wholesome  kind — largely  that  of  carrying 
sugar-cane  upon  the  head,  the  result  is  as  splen- 
did as  could  be  desired.  But  the  poor  black 
of  Barbadoes  can  never  vie  with  her  white  sis- 
ter of  the  Danube  in  one  of  the  qualities  that 
appeal  to  the  highest  grade  of  civilized  man. 
The  negro  mouth,  nose,  eye,  hair,  finger-nails, 
and  a  hundred  other  distinguishing  features  will 

o  o 

remain  as  they  have  been,  and  make  her  a  poor 
competitor  at  best  in  an  international  beauty 
show  to  which  Magyar  maidens  are  admitted. 

The  peasant  group  we  interviewed  had 
finished  their  own  load,  and  were  now  doing 
work  for  another  by  contract.  The  steam - 
threshers,  two  of  which  I  noticed  as  being  of 
English  make,  appeared  to  be  fully  employed 
as  well,  showing  that  the  relative  merit  of 
steam  and  man  power  here  was  not  deter- 
mined. In  Roumania  and  Russia  I  saw  steam 


l62  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

power  likewise  in  close  competition  with  that  of 
men  and  horses.  In  Russia  the  sight  struck 
me  more  than  elsewhere,  because  the  famine 
was  well  appreciated  by  the  dealers.  It  was 
early  in  September  of  1891;  prices  were  high, 
and  the  farmers  might  be  regarded  as  directly 
interested  in  securing  the  fullest  possible  crop 
at  the  earliest  moment.  At  Reni,  or  the  Russian 
Danube,  harvesting  was  in  full  swing  when  I  ar- 
rived; the  town  was  full  of  Jews,  who  pounced 
upon  the  incoming  peasant's  wagon  like  chick- 
ens on  a  cockroach,  and  from  the  violence 
of  their  gesticulation  appeared  to  be  insisting 
either  upon  his  life,  or  his  load  of  grain.  Here 
I  saw  peasants  driving  round  and  round  over 
their  wheat  an  empty  cart  with  three  horses 
harnessed  to  it  abreast,  a  very  slow  and  labo- 
rious way  indeed.  At  another  peasant's  en- 
closure, the  head  of  the  family  had  harnessed 
three  horses  abreast  to  a  "stone  boat"  or 
toboggan-shaped  sled.  On  this  vehicle  was 
seated  his  pretty  wife  who  held  in  her  arms 
a  baby  about  six  months  old.  Round  and 
round  they  went,  the  baby  enjoying  it  hugely. 
The  husband  was  probably  too  poor  to  afford 
a  steam  machine,  and  was  probably  owing  his 
present  crop  for  unpaid  taxes. 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  163 

We  strolled  amidst  the  golden  hay  stacks  of 
the  Szegedin  threshing  fields  until  noon, 
when  the  peasants  lit  their  camp-fires  and  pre- 
pared their  dinner  like  the  gypsies;  we  too 
felt  hungry,  so  bidding  good-bye  to  the  bare- 
legged men  and  the  untrammeled  maidens,  we 
jumped  aboard  our  light  wagon,  flew  back 
over  the  bumpy  roads  to  the  Hotel  Tisza,  had 
a  royal  meal,  drank  a  farewell  bumper,  and 
then  once  more  joined  Caribce  and  the  Danube. 

Here  it  was  that  I  said  good-bye  to  Lajos, 
God  bless  him  ! 


164  PADDLES    AND   POLITICS 

CHAPTER    XVII 

SERVIAN   PUBLIC    OPINION 

AT  Semendria  I  went  ashore,  for  the  sake  of 
meeting  a  Servian  banker  recommended 
to  me  as  a  good  judge  of  the  present  condition 
of  his  country.  As  every  one  knows,  Semen- 
dria is  the  Chicago  of  Servia,  and  as  grain  is 
one  of  the  principal  items  in  the  trade  of  the 
country,  the  bankers  of  this  town  fix  the  quo- 
tations for  all  the  rest. 

But  first  let  me  recall  once  more  the  beauty 
of  the  stream  all  the  way  from  Belgrade  to  this 
place — the  beautiful  slopes  covered  with  vines; 
the  fields  of  grain;  the  horses,  cows,  pigs,  and 
sheep  that  trooped  to  the  water  for  a  bath;  the 
melodious  peasantry  who  seemed  always  sing- 
ing or  piping.  Judging  only  from  the  canoe 
deck,  I  seemed  to  sail  along  a  land  full  of  all 
that  makes  a  nation  prosperous  and  happy. 
As  I  landed  at  the  Belgrade  swimming  bath, 
and  handed  my  passport  to  an  official,  I  was 
met  by  these  proud  words: 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  165 

"  The  stranger  needs  no  passport — the  Serbs 
are  a  free  people." 

Belgrade  being  the  first  city  which  the 
stranger  sees  coming  from  up  the  river,  and, 
besides  that,  the  capital  of  the  country,  this 
proud  speech  made  a  deep  impression  on  me. 
From  the  river,  too,  Belgrade  is  one  of  the 
most  imposing  cities  in  the  world  in  both 
strength  of  position  and  beauty.  It  rises  from 
the  water's  edge  in  terraces  of  roofs,  gardens, 
towers,  battlements,  and  minarets.  The  gor- 
geous light  of  the  rising  sun  was  bathing  it  in  a 
soft  embrace  of  gold  and  orange  as  I  paddled 
toward  it  from  Semlin,  and  I  could  not  but 
fancy  myself  approaching  an  oriental  paradise. 

But  I  should  have  done  better  to  paddle  on, 
for  the  town  itself  suggests  the  rule  of  a  Servian 
Tammany  Hall.  The  streets  are  bad  as  bad 
can  be;  some  pretentious  modern  buildings  are 
to  be  seen,  but  they  only  serve  to  make  the 
remnants  of  Turkish  rule  more  squalid;  prices 
are  very  high;  soldiers  appear  to  own  the  place 
—I  was  glad  to  get  away. 

I  had  some  of  the  same  feeling  in  Greece — 
that  I  would  have  enjoyed  the  Acropolis  more 
had  I  known  Athens  less.  To  gaze  at  its  glori- 
ous proportions  from  the  sea  is  pleasure  pure; 


l66  PADDLES    AND    POLITICS 

to  approach  it  through  the  brick  and  mortar 
of  a  sham  civilization  is  to  me  almost  blasphe- 
mous. 

In  Belgrade  a  friend  holding  official  position 
told  me  that  western  Europe  was  wrong  in 
thinking  the  Serbs  under  Russian  influence. 
As  a  rule,  it  is  well  to  be  shy  of  all  people  in 
official  position,  because  such  people  acquire  a 
certain  professional  bias  which  compels  them 
to  seek,  not  the  truth,  but  the  views  of  their 
superiors.  This  opinion,  then,  I  thought  little 
of  until  I  reached  Semendria,  and  had  a  talk 
with  my  banker  friend.  He  was  a  patriotic 
Serb,  a  man  who  had  seen  the  world,  who  knew 
the  people  worth  knovcing,  and  talked  freely 
with  me. 

"  Do  you  look  upon  Russian  influence  as 
dangerous  ?"  I  asked. 

"  It  is  a  constant  source  of  anxiety  to  us,  but 
the  Russian  generally  overdoes  his  part.  He 
is  so  sly  as  to  overreach  himself.  His  ruble 
can  do  much  in  a  country  that  has  been  for 
generations  demoralized  by  Turkish  misrule; 
but,  thank  God,  it  can  not  do  everything  !  " 

"  What  is  to  oppose  it  ?  " 

"  Our  national  spirit  is  very  strong,  strange 
as  this  may  appear.  Our  people  are  free  and 


DOWN"   THE    DANUBE  l6/ 

independent  peasants — you  may  travel  into 
every  corner  of  Servia,  and  wherever  you  go 
you  will  find  a  peasantry  living  comfortably, 
jealous  of  their  liberty,  and  enthusiastic  in  the 
cause  of  Servian  nationality.  The  Greek  Church 
is  strong,  but  the  national  spirit  is  stronger. 

"  The  Eastern  question,  in  my  opinion,"  con- 
tinued he,  "  will  not  be  settled  until  the  Serb 
has  fought  with  Greek  and  Bulgar,  and  recov- 
ered national  sway  over  the  Serbs,  now  forced 
to  submit  to  the  rule  of  enemies.  We  do  what 
we  can  to  keep  the  national  spirit  alive — we 
have  organized  societies  in  neighboring  states, 
particularly  in  the  Turkish  provinces,  all  de- 
voted to  fostering  Servian  life  and  literature. 
Our  work  is  not  easy,  for  our  people  are  not  all 
as  well  educated  as  we  could  desire,  but  still 
we  do  make  progress,  and  are  ready  to  fight 
for  what  we  deem  a  holy  cause." 

"  But  as  to  Russia,  what  is  it  that  checks  their 
propaganda  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  The  best  of  all  checks,"  he  answered,  "  our 
pockets.  Our  trade  interests  lie  up  the  river 
toward  Austria  and  Germany.  We  send  each 
year  from  Semendria  about  two  hundred  big 
barges,  each  holding  three  to  five  hundred  tons 
of  grain,  up  toward  Germany.  Our  sales  are 


168  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

made  up  there.  Our  trade  demands  that  Ger- 
man be  our  language.  The  Austro-Hungarian 
Empire  treats  us  well;  we  have  everything  to 
hope  from  that  quarter,  and  nothing  to  fear. 

"What  could  Russia  do  for  us?  She  will 
not  trade.  She  does  not  represent  liberty.  The 
up-river  countries  represent  trade,  and  Ser- 
vians need  not  feel  sorry  at  the  prospect  of 
being  as  liberally  governed  as  Hungary." 

"  If  that  is  the  case,"  I  asked,  "  why  this 
constant  intrigue  on  the  part  of  Russia  ?  " 

"  The  Russian  intrigue  continues  because1  our 
people  are  haunted  by  the  dread  of  Russian 
conquest  along  the  lower  Danube.  Many  of 
them  believe  that  Russia  will  eventually  cap- 
ture Constantinople  and  that  she  will  then  be 
the  mistress  of  all  this  part  of  the  world.  Her 
friends  she  will  reward — her  enemies  she  will 
enslave.  If  Servia  help  Russia,  think  they, 
then  Russia  will  give  us  back  our  great  na- 
tional territory. 

"Personally,  I  do  not  believe  in  Russian 
gratitude  of  this  kind.  Moreover,  I  do  believe 
that  if  Servia  could  see  some  clear  sign  from 
Vienna  or  London,  or,  better  still,  from  Berlin, 
it  would  have  a  very  good  effect.  If  the  Ger- 
man Emperor  once  for  all  proclaimed  his  de- 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  169 

termination  to  maintain  the  status  quo  on  the 
Danube,  as  against  Russia,  he  would  at  once 
put  an  end  to  the  intrigues  now  undermining 
our  vitality.  Germany  and  Austria  together 
are  clearly  entitled  to  the  chief  voice  in  Dan- 
ubian  matters,  and  when  this  voice  is  raised  all 
the  little  states  will  promptly  recognize  the  side 
on  which  their  interests  lie.  Russia  will  crawl 
back  across  the  Pruth,  or,  if  she  chooses  to  con- 
test, very  well — all  the  Danube  countries  will 
then  know  under  which  flag  to  range  them- 
selves." 

My  friend  assured  me  that  he  spoke  for  the 
material  interests  of  Servia,  and  that  German}' 
was  losing  a  splendid  opportunity  in  not  doing 
all  in  her  power,  at  this  time,  to  assure  ever}' 
Danube  state  of  her  protection. 

This  is  only  one  Serb,  to  be  sure,  but  his 
language  I  have  heard  repeated  often  and  often 
by  different  people  in  corresponding  positions 
along  the  shores  of  Bulgaria  and  Roumania. 
They,  one  and  all,  dread  the  invasion  of  Rus- 
sian barbarism;  they  long  for  vigorous  utter- 
ances from  Berlin;  they  hesitate — they  negotiate 
with  the  Czar's  agents— they  do  what  they  can 
to  gain  time,  and  preserve  in  the  meantime  ap- 
pearances of  at  least  official  friendship.  But 


I/O  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

during  this  anxious  period  enormous  military 
forces  are  raised  and  maintained;  trade  is  much 
hampered  by  protectionism  carried  to  barbarous 
extremes;  capitalists  seek  safer  fields  for  in- 
vestment— in  short,  the  poor  people  could  not 
be  much  worse  off  in  actual  war. 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

CARIBEE    SHOOTS   THE    RAPIDS   OF   THE    IRON 
GATES 

THE  1 8th  of  August  was  a  very  hot  day  in 
the  year  1891,  at  least  to  me.  There 
was  scarcely  a  breath  of  wind;  I  had  been 
paddling  from  7  in  the  morning  until  nearly 
noon;  the  Servian  shore  seemed  as  uninterest- 
ing as  the  Hungarian,  and  even  the  singing  and 
piping  of  the  peasants  on  the  banks  failed  to 
stimulate  me.  Two  frontier  soldiers  on  the 
Hungarian  side  promised  a  momentary  diver- 
sion. They  shot  out  at  me  from  behind  a  reedy 
island,  one  rowing,  the  other  steering.  Oh  ! 
for  a  fair  wind  I  prayed,  what  a  dance  might  I 
then  have  led  them — though  when  they  had 
headed  me  off,  and  I  noticed  two  rifles  within 
convenient  reach,  I  remembered  that  frontier 
guards  along  this  river  have  a  reputation  for 
shooting  on  slight  provocation. 

Our  conversation  was  as  follows: 

GUARD:  Where  from? 

CARIBEE:  Budapesth. 


1/2  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

GUARD:  Where  going? 

CARIBEE:  Black  Sea. 

The  guards  gave  a  few  suspicious  and  dis- 
satisfied grunts,  pulled  away  to  their  island, 
and  left  me  to  work  along  as  before. 

Fortunately  not  for  long,  for  a  sharp  turn  in 
the  stream  brought  me  face  to  face  with  one  of 
the  grandest  bits  of  scenery  in  the  world.  A 
spur  of  the  Transylvanian  Alps  crosses  the  Dan- 
ube here,  between  Bazias  and  Turn-Severing, 
and  forces  the  stream  between  rocky  sides  that 
spring  precipitously  to  the  sky.  I  felt  as 
though  entering  some  cavernous  region  of 
which  this  was  the  portico.  So  lofty  are  the 
rocks,  and  so  narrow  the  river,  that  light  fails, 
and  the  vista  appears  to  end  in  blackness.  The 
very  threshold  of  this  mighty  pass  is  suggestive 
of  disaster,  for  here  is  a  lofty  solitary  rock  in 
mid-stream  looking  like  a  stony  warning  to  those 
venturing  beyond.  Its  very  name — Babakai — 
in  Turkish  means  "  warning."  On  my  right  are 
the  extensive  ruins  of  a  once  mighty  fortress 
which  hundreds  of  years  ago  protected  Chris- 
tian Hungary  from  the  inroad  of  the  Moslem. 
In  fact  there  is  scarce  a  point  of  military  ad- 
vantage between  Vienna  and  the  Black  Sea 
that  does  not  mark  the  desperate  efforts  made 


DOWN    TIFK    DANUBE 


173 


in  time  past  to  shut  out  the  Mohammedan  in- 
vasion. I  was  able  to  count  nine  splendid 
towers,  still  standing,  to  attest  the  importance 
of  this  once  mighty  stronghold. 

The  wind  blows  fresh  and  fair  as  Caribee  en- 


Curibee  IN  THE  WHIRLPOOLS  AND  RAPIDS  OF  THE  IRON  GATES. 


ters  the  passes;  and  although  as  a  rule  it  is 
better  to  furl  sail  when  surrounded  by  steep 
mountains,  this  seemed  an  occasion  when  an 
exceptional  risk  might  be  run.  So  with  both 
wings  spread  we  flew  into  the  Iron  Gates. 
The  sailing  warmed  my  blood,  and  nature 


1/4  PADDLES    AND    POLITICS 

once  more  spoke  sympathetically  to  me;  the 
music  of  the  cattle  and  the  shepherds'  pipes  on 
shore  seemed  delicious  ;  the  boys  and  girls 
swimming  out  to  meet  me  seemed  like  creat- 
ures of  a  pleasing  mythology.  On  we  sailed, 
looking  now  at  Servia,  now  at  Hungary,  and 
feeling  that  with  so  much  beauty  between  them 
they  surely  ought  to  be  good  friends.  But  the 
defile  into  which  we  sailed  is  about  seventy- 
five  miles  long:  darkness  overtakes  us  before 
we  are  more  than  over  the  threshold;  we  there- 
fore pull  Caribce  ashore,  camp  for  the  night 
and  dream  of  a  glorious  morrow. 

At  7  on  the  following  morning  Caribec 
moved  once  more  out  into  the  "  Iron  Gates." 
The  ninety  kilometers  to  Orsowa  would  have 
been  easy  ones  but  for  the  wind,  which  came 
out  dead  ahead  and  rather  strong.  It  made  the 
water  of  the  rapids  very  lumpy,  so  that  it  was 
almost  impossible  to  detect  the  channel.  On 
this  day  I  carefully  furled  my  sails  and  pro- 
posed to  rely  wholly  on  my  paddle.  As  I  had 
not  heard  of  any  canoe  which  had  ever  run 
these  rapids,  and  could  get  no  information  on 
the  subject  from  the  secretaries  of  the  principal 
English  and  American  canoe  clubs,  I  went 
ashore  at  Trenkowar,  on  the  Hungarian  side, 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  1/5 

and  made  inquiries  in  regard  to  them  of  the 
resident  agent  of  the  great  Danube  Steamship 
Company. 

This  company  maintains  a  very  large  fleet 
of  excellently  equipped  steamboats,  trading 
the  whole  navigable  length  of  the  stream — that 
is,  between  Regensburg  and  the  Black  Sea. 
The  Iron  Gates  are  a  source  of  great  concern 
to  them,  for  the  whirlpools  here  are  the  result 
of  the  very  shallow  water,  which  necessitates 
a  transfer  of  goods  from  large  to  small  boats — 
indeed,  at  some  stages  no  boats  can  pass  at 
all.  For  some  years  efforts  have  been  making 
to  blast  the  rocks  which  encumber  the  channel, 
and  to  make  it  navigable  at  all  times.  It  is 
greatly  to  be  hoped  that  these  efforts  will  be 
successful.  To-day,  however,  the  most  enthu- 
siastic engineer  can  only  hope — he  can  hardly 
be  confident. 

The  Vienna  manager  of  this  steamship  com- 
pany had  kindly  given  me  a  letter  of  introduc- 
tion to  his  different  agents  along  the  river,  and 
as  Trenkowar  was  a  point  where  vessels  bound 
eastward  usually  took  pilot,  it  seemed  proper 
to  go  ashore  and  reconnoitre. 

The  agent  was  most  polite,  but  for  some  time 
failed  to  grasp  what  I  wished.  To  my  question 


1/6  PADDLES    AND    POLITICS 

whether  I  could  get  down  in  safety,  he  said  he 
thought  so;  there  would  be  a  steamer  along 
soon !  Then  I  told  him  that  I  had  my  own 
boat;  to  which  he  said  he  would  furnish  me 
with  a  pilot.  But  I  had  to  protest  that  there 
was  barely  room  for  me,  let  alone  another. 
This  he  could  not  believe,  so  I  took  him  to  the 
shore  and  let  him  admire  the  beautiful  lines  of 
Caribee. 

"  Then,"  said  he,  "  you  must  wait  for  the 
freight  boat,  and  place  your  canoe  on  her." 

This  was  shocking.  Had  I  come  so  far  to 
get  upon  a  coarse  freight  boat  ?  I  told  him 
that  I  wanted  to  paddle  my  own  canoe  through 
the  rapids.  "  Gott  bewahre  !  "  was  his  pious 
ejaculation.  "  It  has  never  been  done,  it  can 
never  be  done.  It  is  '  toll  kuehn.'  You  will  be 
drowned,  and  your  body  never  recovered  !  " 
He  offered  to  let  me  go  down  and  back  for 
nothing  on  one  of  his  steamers,  in  order  to  con- 
vince me  of  my  folly;  but  that  would  have 
consumed  the  best  part  of  the  day. 

The  water  was  not  far  below  normal  height, 
and  as  I  had  taken  Caribee  through  many  ap- 
parently desperate  places  in  safety,  I  felt  per- 
haps too  confident  at  the  prospect  ofDanubian 
whirlpools. 


DOWN    THE   DANUBE  1/7 

The  good  agent  shook  me  warmly  by  the 
hand,  gave  me  his  blessing,  and  gazed  sorrow- 
fully at  me  as  the  swift  current  hurried  me 
away. 

It  was  after  9  in  the  morning  when  I  bade 
good-bye  to  Trenkowar.  In  less  than  fifteen 
minutes  Caribee  had  safely  passed  through  the 
rapids  of  Kozla  and  Doika  without  particular 
difficulty.  There  was  something  delightful  in 
the  sensation  of  battling  with  the  turbulent 
water,  especially  to  feel  that  the  buoyancy  of  a 
little  canoe  was  more  than  a  match  for  the 
snatching  eddies  of  the  furious  current.  On 
both  sides  of  me  the  great  black  mountains 
went  up  from  the  river  1,500  to  2,000  feet,  add- 
ing gloom  to  a  landscape  already  forbidding 
enough.  The  scene  was  very  lonesome,  and 
where  I  happened  to  catch  sight  of  a  human 
dwelling  it  seemed  as  though  the  inmates  must 
have  strayed  here  by  mistake.  The  poet  Ovid, 
according  to  some  accounts,  spent  part  of  his 
exile  in  these  regions,  but  this  I  cannot  believe 
after  having  paddled  down  this  portion  of  the 
river.  It  is  as  desolate  and  majestic  as  the  far- 
famed  Saguenay,  which  flows  into  the  lower  St. 
Lawrence. 

At  half  an  hour  before  noon  I  was  approach- 


1/8  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

ing  the  Izlas  rapids,  which  are  said  to  be  very 
bad,  particularly  as  they  are  followed  immedi- 
ately by  a  series  called  Tachtalia-velika,  TacJi- 
talia-mala,  and  the  Greben,  all  of  them  coming 
within  a  stretch  of  only  two  or  three  miles. 
And  with  a  stream  running  about  ten  miles  an 
hour,  there  is  not  much  time  to  think  between 
leaving  one  set  of  rocks  and  jumping  into  the 
next.  For  these  rapids  are  formed  by  a  mass 
of  jagged  rocks  scattered  over  the  bottom  with 
so  little  reference  to  the  convenience  of  the 
traveler  that  it  is  extremely  difficult  to  find  a 
channel,  however  small.  The  moment  you 
have  luckily  passed  between  two  threatening 
rocks  you  are  pretty  sure  to  find  another 
straight  ahead,  and  when  you  look  around  for 
a  channel  in  some  other  direction,  you  can  see 
nothing  but  a  confused  mass  of  foam  bubbling 
up  savagely  all  about. 

Just  before  pitching  into  the  Izlas  rapids  I 
went  ashore  in  a  back  eddy  on  the  Hungarian 
side,  and  climbed  to  a  point  from  which  I  had 
a  bird's-eye  view  of  the  stream.  It  was  inter- 
esting as  a  picture,  and  \vhen  I  came  down  I 
fancied  that  I  had  in  my  mind  a  satisfactory 
chart  of  the  rocks  to  be  dodged. 

It  was  exactly  noon  when  I  pushed  off  from 


DOWN   THE    DANUBF,  1/9 

this  point,  nibbling  some  sausage  and  black 
bread  by  way  of  lunch. 

I  struck  out  boldly  for  the  first  opening  in 
the  rapids,  and  when  the  downward  rush  seized 
me  I  thought  it  most  exhilarating  sport.  In 
the  next  moment,  however,  I  had  before  me  a 
line  of  foam  stretching  across  my  path  on  either 
side  as  far  as  I  could  see;  though  for  that  mat- 
ter so  swift  was  my  descent  that  it  was  out  of 
the  question  to  work  far  to  either  side.  There 
was  nothing  to  do  but  ride  a  straight  line  for 
it,  rise  to  the  fence  at  all  hazards  and  trust  to 
luck  for  the  issue.  The  counterpart  to  stick- 
ing close  in  the  pigskin  was  having  my  toes 
snug  and  fast  on  the  little  ribs  of  the  canoe, 
my  back  well  planted  for  hard  work  when  the 
strain  came,  being  balanced  for  quick  dodging, 
and,  above  all,  keeping  a  cool  grip  on  the 
paddle. 

At  the  first  great  wave  of  foam  Caribee  rose 
superbly.  No  hunter  could  have  made  a  more 
splendid  lift,  and  as  her  bow  rose  I  sought, 
by  throwing  my  weight  aft,  to  make  her  work 
easier.  For  just  a  moment  she  hung  trembling 
on  the  top  of  the  broken  surge,  then  down  she 
plunged  on  the  other  side,  burying  her  pretty 
forward  skin  up  to  the  waist  and  spraying  me 


l8o  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

with  foam.  The  idea  of  seeking  a  channel  was 
now  quite  lost  sight  of,  and  my  efforts  were  di- 
rected to  keeping  out  of  the  centre  of  the  whirl- 
pools. 

Of  mere  rocks  I  was  not  afraid,  for  the  canoe 
was  so  light  and  the  pressure  of  water  so  great 
that  she  could  almost  be  trusted  to  take  care 
of  herself  on  this  score. 

The  whirlpools  are,  however,  dangerous. 
They  seem  infinite  in  number,  their  circles 
overlap  at  times,  and  nothing  but  the  most 
anxious  care  kept  Caribee  from  being  nipped 
by  one.  My  plan  was  always  to  play  off  one 
eddy  against  the  other  —  a  good  rule  in  the 
stream  of  politics  as  well.  I  sought  to  force 
my  boat  between  the  whirlpools,  or,  if  that  was 
impossible,  then  across  their  points  of  intersec- 
tion. In  that  way  I  managed  to  neutralize 
much  of  their  spite,  and,  thanks  to  the  excel- 
lent training  of  Caribee,  I  never  once  failed. 

A  very  nasty  feature  of  the  rapids  was  the 
large  amount  of  broken  water  that  sprang  up 
into  sharp  and  high  waves  which  attacked  the 
canoe  so  savagely  as  to  suggest  that  they  were 
shot  up  from  the  bottom  of  the  river  by  some 
devilish  sprites  who  have  a  grudge  against 
boats.  These  waves  do  not  extend  themselves 


DOWN  THE   DANUBE  l8l 

any  more  than  the  whirlpools,  but  they  are,  in 
their  sphere,  quite  as  bad.  At  one  time  I  was 
caught  in  a  mass  of  turbulent  water  while  a 
paddle  steamer  was  passing,  and  the  effect  was 
such  that  I  did  not  enjoy  the  movement  in  the 
least. 

By  2  o'clock  I  pass  some  more  majestic 
ruins  overlooking  the  Danube  at  the  very 
southernmost  point  of  Hungary,  and  immedi- 
ately afterward  am  struggling  with  the  Juc 
rapids,  the  only  ones  between  Greben  and  the 
Khasan  Pass,  a  distance  of  four  hours  as  I 
traveled.  On  this  day  I  paddled  only  when 
it  was  necessary,  and  the  rapids  gave  me 
plenty  to  do.  For  long  stretches  I  had  com- 
parative rest  and  the  very  height  of  happiness, 
for  I  was  then  stretched  out  comfortably  in 
the  bottom  of  my  boat,  marveling  at  the  beau- 
ties of  nature  so  prodigally  bestowed.  No  puff- 
ing railway  snorts  along  either  bank  of  this 
grand  river,  at  least  in  this  neighborhood.  The 
magnificent  roadway  on  the  Hungarian  side  is 
not  only  a  great  monument  to  engineering  en- 
terprise, but  calculated  to  throw  into  stronger 
relief  the  ruggednessof  the  surrounding  mount- 
ains. 

But  time  spins  on  rapidly  under  such  condi- 


182  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

tions.  My  ship's  watch  in  the  bottom  of  the 
boat  marks  half-past  4  before  I  am  aware  of 
it,  and  the  river,  contracting  suddenly  to  a 
few  hundred  yards  between  perpendicular  cliffs, 
calls  me  to  my  duties  as  navigator,  for  now 
comes  the  worst  bit  of  the  day.  We  have  at 
last  reached  the  Khasan  Pass,  through  which 
the  water  rushes  and  boils  at  the  rate  of  eleven 
feet  to  the  second,  the  fall  being  seven  and  a 
half  feet  in  every  five  hundred  fathoms  (Aus- 
trian Klafter).  This  section  is,  really,  not  so 
bad  as  the  Iron  Gates  proper,  which  are  to 
follow,  but  the  black  walls  are  close  and  for- 
bidding; the  wind  at  the  time  was  blowing 
sharply  against  me  and  making  the  channel 
difficult  to  find;  a  storm  of  some  sort  was 
brewing  up  in  the  mountains,  and  to  add  to  my 
work  the  wash  of  a  mail  steamer  made  the 
other  waves  worse  than  usual.  But  Caribee 
proved  as  faithful  here  as  further  up,  and  with 
nothing  worse  than  a  wholesome  drenching  I 
passed  the  worst  of  the  rapids  in  safety. 

I  now  coasted  close  along  the  Servian  shore, 
admiring  the  remains  of  the  military  road  which 
the  Roman  Emperor  Trajan  carved  out  of  the 
rocks  here  about  one  hundred  years  after  Christ. 
The  sketch  I  made  shows  the  holes  from  which 


183 


heavy  beams  propped  up  the  wooden  planks 
which  reached  out  over  the  black  stream.  The 
wooden  parts  have  long  ago  been  used  up  at 
fishermen's  fires,  but  the  arched  roof  of  rock 
still  remains  overhanging  the  stone  pathway 


Caribee  AT  TRAJAN'S  TABLET. 

beneath  to  prove  beyond  question  that  in  the 
days  of  Trajan  the  Danube  was  regarded  as  of 
vast  commercial,  as  well  as  strategic,  impor- 
tance; in  fact,  that  the  Rome  of  two  thousand 
years  ago  was  willing  to  make  greater  sacri- 
fices for  the  development  of  commerce  along 


184  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

this  stream  than  the  Europe  of  to-day.  An 
exception  must  be  made  in  favor  of  Szechenyi, 
the  generous  Magyar,  who  in  1830  began  the 
highway  which  does  to-day  for  Hungary  what 
the  work  of  Trajan  did  for  the  people  of  his 
time. 

The  remains  of  this  work  of  Trajan's  help 
us  to  realize  that  there  was  a  time  when,  from 
the  Black  Sea  to  the  head  of  the  river,  the 
whole  Danube  country  was  under  one  strong 
government,  and  that  its  whole  shore-line  was 
policed  by  the  legions  of  Rome  as  jealously  as 
England  to-day  guards  her  Indus.  Sensual 
vice  in  later  centuries  made  cowards  and  idiots 
of  the  Roman  leaders,  and  when  that  time  came 
the  Danube  was  lost.  Barbarous  mobs  broke 
through  atone  point  and  then  another;  Roman 
civilization  was  rooted  out  of  existence  as 
though  in  one  night,  and  at  points  where  it  had 
been  growing  for  hundreds  of  years.  A  few 
marble  arches  and  scraps  of  household  utensils 
are  now  about  all  that  remain  to  mark  the  site 
of  cities  which  in  the  days  of  imperial  Rome 
wsre  as  important  in  their  way  as  Liverpool 
and  New  York  are  to-day. 

Caribce  stopped  awhile  at  a  point  on  the  Ser- 
vian shore  by  the  side  of  the  great  Roman 


DOWN   THE   DANUBE  185 

roadway,  where  a  long  inscription  carved  in 
the  living  rock  commemorated  the  finishing  of 
this  noble  enterprise.  The  letters  are  largely 
obliterated,  for  the  fishermen  have  in  centuries 
gone  by  built  their  fires  on  this  convenient 
ledge,  and  it  is  but  within  recent  years  that 
public  action  has  rescued  what  remains.  A 
masonry  buttress  now  prevents  any  further  de- 
struction, save  that  caused  by  time.  A  peasant, 
with  a  shaggy  lamb's-wool  hat  on  his  head, 
and  clothed  in  the  single  tunic  and  wide  trou- 
sers of  the  country,  was  preparing  his  supper  as 
I  passed.  His  dress  is  similar  to  that  which 
his  ancestors  wore  when  Trajan  cut  his  name 
on  the  rocks  here.  His  fishing  implements 
most  likely  have  not  changed  in  the  last  two 
thousand  years.  He  probably  felt  much  ag- 
grieved when  forbidden  to  cook  his  supper 
against  the  precious  tablet  of  the  Roman  em- 
peror— not  that  he  objected  to  Trajan's  person- 
ality, for  he  may  never  have  heard  the  name — 
but  because  he  was  prevented  from  doing  what 
his  ancestors  had  regarded  as  their  right  for  a 
thousand  years. 

This  man  had  probably  never  seen  a  rail- 
way train,  or  been  aboard  a  steamboat.  The 
chances  are  that  his  ancestor  in  the  days  of 


l86  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

Roman  rule  enjoyed  larger  advantages  of  an 
educational  nature  than  he  to-day  in  an  age 
that  pretends  to  pity  the  poor  heathen  of  ante- 
phonographic  times.  If  we  can  call  to  mind  a 
picture  of  the  West  Indies  when  they  shall 
have  been  handed  over  to  a  negro  govern- 
ment, or  of  India  \vhen  the  last  redcoat  shall 
have  been  withdrawn,  we  can  understand  why 
Servia  to-day  may  have  to  look  back  twenty 
centuries  to  recall  that  she  was  once  a  pros- 
perous and  a  civilized  country. 

The  Khasan  pass  is  short,  narrow,  and  swift, 
and  we  are  too  soon  done  with  it.  Its  dark 
walls  are  monuments  that  speak  to  us  of  the 
past,  the  present  and  the  future  of  this  inter- 
esting part  of  the  world.  The  day  of  Trajan  is 
past,  because  in  Rome  the  politicians  were 
without  patriotism,  the  citizens  without  energy. 
Servia  has  not  yet  roused  herself  to  rebuild 
this  road,  for  she  has  not  yet  recovered  from 
her  period  of  Turkish  slavery.  On  the  other 
side  of  the  river,  however,  is  a  land  full  of  fire 
and  young  blood,  patriotism  and  courage. 
Hungary  has  taken  up  the  work  which  Rome 
abandoned,  and  her  people  are  to-day  the 
guardians  of  the  lower  Danube.  The  Szechenyi 
road  is  a  symbol  of  their  enterprise.  We  see 


DOWN  THE   DANUBE  187 

it  again  in  the  strong  efforts  they  are  now 
making  to  render  this  reach  of  the  river  safe  at 
all  times  of  the  year.  The  work  would  move 
more  rapidly  did  Servia  see  her  way  to  co- 
operate more  effectually,  but  a  beginning  has 
at  least  been  made — and  those  who  are  im- 
patient at  the  slowness  with  which  the  work 
proceeds  must  bear  in  mind  that  Servia,  in 
common  with  the  other  Balkan  states,  is  so 
preoccupied  with  questions  of  self-preservation, 
that  anything  beyond  that  can  receive  scant 
attention. 

It  is  nearly  dark  when  Caribcc  emerges 
from  this  long  pass.  The  lights  of  Orsowa  soon 
show  themselves;  I  slip  in  behind  a  steamboat 
that  is  moored  to  the  embankment;  hurry  up 
to  an  open-air  restaurant  of  which  I  have 
heard;  get  a  table  close  to  the  gypsy  fiddlers 
who  are  here  making  a  temporary  paradise  of 
an  otherwise  uninteresting  place;  order  dinner; 
meet  some  good  friends;  in  short,  after  twelve 
hours  of  pretty  hard  river  work,  enjoy  a  most 
welcome  rest. 

The  Iron  Gates  proper  are  below  Orsowa, 
and  constitute  the  grand  finale  to  the  seventy- 
five  miles  of  dangerous  navigation  in  this  part  of 
the  Danube.  It  was  at  7  o'clock  in  the  morn- 


1 88  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

ing  that  Caribee  pushed  off  for  the  final  strug- 
gle. There  was  no  companion  of  any  sort  on 
this  occasion — not  even  a  pilot.  Her  rigging 
was  made  fast  so  that  nothing  should  wash  off 
into  the  water.  I  had  been  up  since  5  o'clock, 
stowing  away  stores  and  arranging  my  affairs 
with  a  special  eye  to  campaigning  amidst  the 
outer  barbarians.  All  heavy  luggage  I  shipped 
back  up  the  river,  carrying  with  me  nothing 
but  a  sailor's  bag,  and  carefully  putting  out  of 
the  way  any  book  or  letter  likely  to  be  em- 
barrassing to  a  police  officer. 

Immediately  below  Orsowa  is  Turkish  terri- 
tory, the  island  of  Ada-Kaleh;  a  perfect  bit  of 
Moslem  life  separated  from  all  the  world  by 
the  rushing  Danube  at  the  junction  of  three 
states.  At  Orsowa  were  Hungarian  troops 
pacing  the  frontier.  Within  half  an  hour  Rou- 
manian pickets  appear,  guarding  their  territory 
as  though  from  a  plague,  while  immediately 
across  the  stream,  which  is  here  comparatively 
narrow,  a  Servian  sentinel  is  marching  up  and 
down  before  his  guard  tent.  Before  many 
hours  I  shall  be  greeted  by  the  military  uni- 
form of  the  Bulgarian  police — but  that  is  antic- 
ipation. 

About  two  miles  below  the  Turkish  island  is 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  189 

a  frightful  reef  across  the  stream,  called  the 
Prigrada.  There  is  an  exceedingly  narrow 
channel  through  this  bed  of  rock,  well  defined 
upon  my  government  map,  but  impossible  for 
me  to  find  as  I  hurry  along.  The  speed  at 
which  I  am  traveling  must  be  very  great,  to 
judge  by  the  shores,  but  to  calculate  exactly 
under  the  conditions  existing  was  neither 
practicable  nor  safe.  The  official  books  say 
that  the  water  passes  here  at  the  rate  of  fifteen 
feet  in  the  second — and  such  water  !  My  first 
intimation  of  the  great  obstruction  here  was  a 
white  line  of  angry  foam  extending  apparently 
entirely  across  the  stream.  The  first  wave  was 
so  high  that  I  could  get  no  general  view  of  the 
whole  rapid,  and  had  I  desired  to  alter  my 
course  it  was  impossible  to  do  so  now.  There 
being,  so  far  as  Caribee  was  concerned,  no 
channel,  we  had  to  take  our  own  line.  We 
rushed  down,  past  the  point  where  Trajan 
threw  his  great  bridge  across  the  stream;  past 
the  colony  of  workmen  engaged  in  blasting  out 
the  projected  channel.  I  could  plainly  see 
some  of  my  friends  on  shore  who  waved  their 
hats  to  the  big  national  ensign  I  had  hoisted 
on  my  mizzen.  One  plunge  into  the  foamy 
crest,  one  shiver,  one  toss,  and  once  again  I 


190  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

was  in  the  midst  of  whirlpools,  tossing  and  gy- 
rating in  a  confused  tangle,  creating  counter- 
currents  and  dashing  the  blinding  spray  furi- 
ously into  my  face.  The  whole  forward  deck 
of  Caribee  was  constantly  washed,  and  my 
paddle  had  to  leap  quickly  from  one  side  to 
the  other  to  prevent  getting  from  bad  into 
worse  water.  The  waves  here  were  very  much 
higher  than  elsewhere,  and  altogether  the  work 
was,  if  possible,  more  difficult.  Fortunately, 
however,  as  in  so  many  difficult  situations,  the 
danger  passed  away  just  when  I  thought  it  was 
really  becoming  serious. 

The  worst  being  over,  and  the  wind  fair,  sail 
was  hoisted,  and  away  we  flew  in  the  strong 
current;  but  not  for  long.  There  were  other 
whirlpools  ahead  which  had  to  be  faced,  but  I 
concluded  to  run  through  them  with  all  sail 
spread,  as  they  were  not  in  the  midst  of  high 
waves  and  broken  water.  I  judged  that  with 
the  smooth  skin  and  the  very  light  draft  of 
Caribee  great  speed  would  insure  safety,  and 
that  I  might  skim  across  the  top  of  a  whirlpool 
and  be  out  on  the  other  side  before  the  savage 
monster  could  make  up  its  mind  to  swallow 
me.  This  view  proved  sound,  and  though  at 
each  one  there  was  always  an  uncomfortable 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  191 

deviation  from  the  course,  suggesting  an  in- 
cipient rotation,  my  speed  and  build  carried 
me,  in  each  case,  triumphantly  through. 

I  did  run  aground  on  one  of  the  many  shal- 
lows below  the  rapids,  and  had  to  be  very 
spry  in  order  to  prevent  her  getting  broadside 
to  the  current,  but  in  the  end  I  was  once  more 
aboard  and  sailing  along  peacefully.  I  hope 
Caribce  felt  proud  of  herself — at  any  rate  I 
did  for  her.  She  was  the  first  of  all  canoes  to 
pass  the  Iron  Gates,  and  did  it  handsomely.  I 
doubt  if  a  heavier  boat  could  have  managed  so 
well,  unless  going,  as  I  did,  without  reference 
to  any  channel. 

In  parenthesis  I  may  add  that,  after  having 
gone  down  the  rapids  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  I 
am  satisfied  that  they  bear  no  comparison  with 
those  of  the  Iron  Gates  for  difficulty  to  the 
canoeist. 

The  canoeist  who  proposes  to  follow  in  the 
wake  of  Caribee  must  hurry,  for  work  is  now 
going  on  here  which  has  for  its  object  the 
blasting  out  of  a  deep  channel  along  the  Ser- 
vian shore,  through  which  ships  may  pass  at 
all  seasons.  At  present  no  locks  are  contem- 
plated, and  the  stream  in  this  channel  will  be 
necessarily  so  swift  that  great  power  will  be 


IQ2  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

needed  to  haul  the  vessels  up;  probably  steam 
engines  on  the  banks.  The  chief  engineer, 
Mr.  George  Luther  of  Brunswick,  has  under- 
taken an  enormous  job,  largely  influenced  by 
the  glory  of  achieving  success  in  an  enterprise 
promising  so  much  prestige  to  his  country. 
Contractors  who  know,  assure  me  that  the 
work  has  proved  so  much  more  expensive  than 
was  at  first  anticipated,  that  the  parties  now 
engaged  upon  it  will  lose  money,  even  if  they 
succeed.  The  more  honor,  therefore,  to  Mr. 
Luther  and  his  backers. 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  193 

CHAPTER  XIX 

IN   A   BULGARIAN    WATER-MILL 

THE  previous  night  I  had  spent  on  the 
Roumanian  shore,  a  night  made  hideous 
to  me  by  the  frontier  police,  who  had  first 
sought  to  carry  me  off  to  the  station  house; 
then  vociferously  ordered  me  away  from  their 
shores,  and  finally,  after  drinking  everything 
I  had,  including  my  methylated  spirits,  had 
taken  themselves  away.  I  left  that  camp  at 
half-past  5  in  the  morning,  after  a  refreshing 
swim.  Breakfast  I  concluded  to  postpone  for 
fear  of  attracting  the  police  and  exposing  my 
larder  to  a  raid;  so,  with  a  crust  of  bread  in 
my  hand,  and  an  open  tin  of  sardines  in  the 
bottom  of  the  boat,  I  hoisted  sail,  skimmed 
disdainfully  past  the  guard  hut  of  my  torment- 
ors, steered  for  the  Servian  side  of  the  channel, 
and  went  ashore  at  a  spot  called  Kusjak. 
There  are  only  six  houses  here,  but  one  of 
them  was  an  inn,  where  presided  a  handsome 
Servian  woman,  who  in\dted  me  to  make  my- 
self at  home.  All  the  Servian  women  I  have 


194  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

so  far  seen  are  handsome — this  one  singularly 
so.  Her  table  was  in  the  shade  in  front  of  her 
house;  the  cloth  was  of  a  pretty  red  and  white 
pattern,  with  napkins  to  match.  Everything 
about  the  place  was  clean  and  neat — yet  who 
could  her  customers  be  but  peasants  ?  As  I 
sat  at  her  door,  cart  after  cart  passed,  each 
one  drawn  by  a  yoke  of  oxen,  and  commanded 
by  an  erect,  dark-browed  and  handsome  Serb, 
wearing  a  huge  black  lamb's-wool  hat  copied 
from  Robinson  Crusoe.  A  coarse  white  cotton 
shirt  fell  from  his  shoulders,  exposing  a  strong 
neck  and  hairy  chest;  loose  trousers  of  the 
same  material  came  to  below  his  knees;  a 
broad  red  belt  encompassed  his  waist;  on  his 
feet  were  sandals.  There  was  nothing  in  the 
whole  "  outfit"  that  was  not,  in  all  probability, 
raised  or  made  on  his  farm;  and  for  that  mat- 
ter it  is  equally  probable  that  the  peasant  who 
passed  this  spot  in  the  days  of  the  Emperor 
Trajan  wore  a  hat  and  tunic,  belt  and  sandals 
similar  to  those  of  the  one  that  passed  me  on 
a  very  hot  morning  in  August,  in  the  year 
1891. 

The  pretty  landlady  soon  brought  me  a 
mess  of  deliciously  fried  fish,  and  a  big  bottle 
of  excellent  red  wine.  My  second  course  con- 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE 


195 


sisted  of  a  cup  of  black  Turkish  coffee.  Be- 
fore parting  she  presented  me  with  three 
big  bunches  of  luscious  grapes,  and  a  jug  of 
wine.  Her  bill,  including  everything,  was 
only  two  francs — yet  to  hear  her  talk  was 
worth  more  than  that.  As  I  sat  here  enjoying 


ON'  THE  SERVIAN  SHORE,  NEAR  KUSJAK.  THE  FISHERMAN  ON  HORSEBACK 
HAS  JUST  CAPTURED  A  STURGEON,  AND  IS  GALLOPING  FROM  HOUbE  TO 
HOUSE,  LOOKING  FOR  A  PURCHASER. 


the  novel  oriental  life  about  me,  a  fierce  Serb 
rode  up  on  his  pony.  He  had  a  huge  sturgeon 
lashed  to  his  saddle,  behind,  and  was  hurrying 
to  find  a  customer  before  it  was  too  late.  He 
was  evidently  well  up  in  the  pretty  landlady's 
graces,  for  though  she  did  not  buy  his  booty, 
she  gave  him  a  little  glass,  which  he  raised 


196  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

gallantly  to  her  good  health;  then  off  he 
dashed  at  a  mad  gallop,  followed  by  tender 
glances  from  a  pair  of  Servian  eyes.  I  rather 
envied  that  fellow;  he  looked  so  proud,  as  the 
tail  of  his  sturgeon  flopped  up  and  down  be- 
hind him — and  then  he  would  be  back  here 
again  some  day,  while  I — 

After  a  short  hour  here  I  was  again  afloat; 
soon  passed  the  Servian  frontier  for  good,  and 
coasted  along  the  Bulgarian  shore.  At  this 
point  of  transition  my  attention  was  diverted 
from  the  dreary-looking  quarantine  buildings  by 
two  pretty  maidens,  who  tripped  lightly  down 
to  the  edge  of  the  water,  smiled  pleasantly, 
and  wafted  a  kiss  to  Caribec.  As  though  by  a 
common  impulse,  each  tossed  off  her  little  red 
jacket;  then  two  red  skirts  slipped  to  the 
ground.  The  young  ladies  stood  then  in 
gauzy  chemises — but  not  for  long.  With  a 
quick  motion  of  the  shoulders,  these  two  final 
garments  disappeared  at  their  feet,  and  they 
posed  like  two  triumphant  models  inviting  ad- 
miration. Then  out  they  skipped  toward  me, 
waving  their  arms,  tossing  their  hair,  laughing 
merrily.  They  made  straight  for  Caribee, 
with  the  obvious  intent  of  capturing  ship  and 
cargo,  and  might  have  succeeded  in  doing  so 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  IQ7 

had  I  not  sternly  turned  my  face  the  other 
way,  and  paddled  furiously  toward  the  Black 
Sea. 

On  I  paddled,  for  the  wind  that  helped  me 
in  the  morning  was  dead  ahead  now,  and  at 
half-past  6  I  concluded  to  camp,  having  been 
twelve  hours  in  my  boat.  The  shores  were 
not  propitious — they  looked  marshy.  A  huge 
water-mill  was  clappering  away  by  the  Bul- 
garian shore;  the  miller  hailed  me  good  even- 
ing, as  I  came  near;  he  spoke  German;  looked 
like  a  good  fellow — happy  thought !  Why  go 
ashore  at  all  ?  Why  not  hitch  Caribce  to  the 
water-mill  ? 

The  miller  gave  permission;  I  pulled  up  on 
the  land  side — I  had  nearly  said  the  port  side 
• — of  his  craft;  he  helped  me  to  unload  my 
kitchen  arrangements,  and  in  other  ways,  as 
well,  showed  his  friendliness  toward  the 
stranger.  He  was  a  Bulgarian,  but  spoke 
some  German,  and  we  got  along  famously  to- 
gether. 

First,  ho\vever,  I  must  have  my  swim.  So, 
with  a  run  I  take  a  header  aft  of  the  wheel,  and 
strike  for  shore.  But  I  had  miscalculated  my 
powers  in  a  six-mile  current,  and  was  carried 
far  down  the  stream  into  the  darkness  before  I 


198  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

finally  succeeded  in  getting  ashore,  a  long  dis- 
tance from  the  point  where  I  made  my  proud 
plunge.  Of  course,  there  was  nothing  to  do 
but  to  trudge  back  along  the  mud — a  simple 
thing  in  itself.  On  this  occasion  the  news  of 
my  arrival  had  apparently  spread,  for  I  found 
that  many  Bulgarians  of  both  sexes  and  all 
ages  had  come  to  the  shore  since  my  plunge, 
for  the  sake  of  seeing  the  stranger  and  his 
craft.  The  situation  was  very  embarrassing, 
but  what  could  I  do  ?  and  besides,  the  inno- 
cent sportiveness  of  the  maidens  I  had  seen 
further  up  reminded  me  that  the  awkwardness 
of  the  situation  sprang  wholly  from  a  social 
bias  contracted  under  a  false  system  of  educa- 
tion. In  Japan  I  had  been  forced  to  counte- 
nance situations  that  were  shocking  at  first  to 
me,  but  wholly  innocent  to  that  most  refined 
race  of  people.  Here  was  I  now  amidst  a  peo- 
ple apparently  as  natural,  in  some  respects,  as 
those  of  Japan  or  the  South  Sea  Islands. 

So  on  I  trudged  through  the  curious  throng, 
answering  their  greetings  with  corresponding 
good  humor,  and  seeking  to  create  the  impres- 
sion that  this  was  the  costume  in  which  I  habit- 
ually took  my  evening  stroll. 

It  was  not  so  easy  getting  aboard  again,  on 


DOWN   THK    DANUBE  IQ9 

account  of  the  swiftness  of  the  current  and  the 
distance  of  the  mill  from  the  shore.  I  started 
well  up  the  stream,  however.  The  miller  threw 
me  a  rope  as  I  came  abreast  of  him,  and  soon 
I  was  once  more  dressed  and  making  my  even- 
ing meal  of  bread  and  soup. 

Seven  more  fierce-looking  Bulgarians  arrived 
while  I  was  cooking  on  the  floor,  and  my  host 
explained  that  they,  too,  were  his  guests,  who 
lodged  on  the  water  with  him.  They  all  wore 
high  Robinson  Crusoe  hats,  loose  cotton  tunics 
and  trousers,  broad  belts,  but  nothing  on  their 
feet.  They  sat  cross-legged  in  a  circle  about 
a  huge  iron  pot  which  hung  over  a  bed  of  char- 
coal. The  fire  was  built  in  a  wooden  trough 
filled  with  sand. 

These  men  were  probably  very  peaceable 
members  of  society,  who  were  profiting  by  the 
excellent  harvest;  but  the  most  exemplary 
must  look  wicked  when  they  wear  black  lamb's- 
wool  high  hats  in  a  Bulgarian  mill  which  is 
lighted  by  a  single  candle  only  strong  enough 
to  reveal  gleaming  teeth  and  shifting  eyeballs. 

There  was  a  little  boy  in  this  mill — the  son 
of  my  host.  He  had  a  burning  fever,  and  was 
restlessly  turning  from  side  to  side  upon  a  pile 
of  corn-sacks.  His  mother  had  gone  for  a. 


2OO  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

doctor,  who  must  have  lived  far  away,  for  she 
did  not  return  until  the  following-  morning. 
Unfortunately,  I  had  no  medicines  with  me,  but 
the  boy  relished  my  fragrant  vegetable  soup  as 
a  change  from  his  daily  mess  of  corn-meal. 

This  Bulgarian  miller  must  have  been  very 
poor  indeed,  for  he  had  no  bed  or  separate 
room  for  his  wife  and  child;  they  and  their 
seven  lodgers  all  slept  in  the  same  room,  mak- 
ing themselves  as  comfortable  as  possible  on 
the  empty  bags,  and,  of  course,  not  changing 
their  garments.  The  noise  of  the  mill-wheel 
made  conversation  next  to  impossible  within 
the  house,  and  the  vibration  was  such  that  I 
could  not  imagine  myself  sleeping  there. 

However,  I  made  a  good  meal,  sharing  my 
luxuries  with  my  host  and  the  little  boy,  and 
at  eight  o'clock  left  the  seven  fierce  lodgers 
crouched  on  their  haunches  about  the  gypsy 
pot.  With  the  aid  of  my  host's  lantern  I  work- 
ed my  way  cautiously  along  the  boards  to 
where  Caribce  was  moored.  Giving  her  twenty 
feet  of  painter,  I  slipped  down  into  her  well, 
bade  good-night  to  my  Bulgarian  friend,  and 
quickly  dropped  astern  through  twenty  feet  of 
oriental  darkness.  The  miller  pressed  me  to 
stay  on  board  of  his  house-boat,  vainly  seek- 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE 


2O I 


ing  to  make  me  feel  that  I  should  there  be 
safer  and  more  comfortable  than  in  my  canoe. 
Politely  but  firmly  I  declined  his  offer,  my 
ostensible  reason  being  that  I  should  be  crowd- 
ing his  guests  to  no  purpose.  As  a  matter  of 

fact,     I    could  

not  have  been 
coaxed  by  any 
amount  of  per- 
suasion to 
spend  a  night 
in  that  floating 
mill.  The  heat 
there  was  op- 
pressive, and 
my  skin  invol- 
untarily itched 
at  the  thought 
of  the  fleas  that 
undoubtedly 
had  come 

aboard  with  the  seven  fierce  lamb's-wool  lodgers. 
Nor  was  rigging  my  tent  such  an  easy  thing 
as  it  looked,  for  Caribce  kept  slewing  from  side 
to  side,  forced  by  the  eddies  that  formed  be- 
hind the  mill.  I  had  to  half  stand  up  to  reach 
the  mainmast  and  fasten  the  forward  end,  and 


SEAMAN    FROM    A   TURKISH   SHIP    PADDLING   A 
DUGOUT    CANOE. 


2O2  PADDLES    A!\yD    POLITICS 

the  after  end  was  nearly  as  bad.  Then  to  over- 
haul sleeping-gear,  make  room  in  the  well  for 
my  legs,  and  yet  spill  nothing  in  the  water — 
all  this  required  some  care.  Of  course  I  knew, 
when  I  lay  down  at  last  to  sleep,  that  there 
were  such  people  as  river  pirates,  and  that  all 
Bulgarians  were  not  as  humane  as  my  miller. 
It  would  have  been  easy  enough  for  a  malevo- 
lent wretch  to  cut  my  painter  while  I  was 
asleep,  and  cut  my  throat,  too,  if  it  seemed 
desirable:  it  had  been  done  before,  and  with 
less  prospect  of  booty  than  Caribee  promised. 

So  I  tucked  my  long-bladed  knife  in  my 
sleeve,  as  I  turned  onto  my  right  side,  and  fell 
asleep  as  peacefully  and  happily  as  though 
brigands  existed  only  in  picture-books.  My 
back  rested  gently  against  the  tender  ribs  of 
the  little  craft,  the  motion  of  the  water  rocked 
me,  and  as  the  waves  lapped  along  her  sides, 
the  sweetest  of  lullabies  could  not  have  had 
more  magical  effect.  I  slept  like  a  tired  child 
until  the  next  day's  sun  burst  through  my  cur- 
tains, and  the  miller's  wife  greeted  me  with  an 
invitation  to  breakfast. 

She  had  returned  in  the  small  hours  of  the 
morning,  fondly  believing  that  she  had  brought 
with  her  the  dose  that  would  heal  her  little 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  2O- 


boy.  Her  face  shone  with  happiness  as  she 
told  me  of  her  success  in  finding  the  doctor 
and  securing  his  medicine. 


204  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

CHAPTER  XX 

A   TURKISH    BIT   OF    RIVER 

THE  pale  little  boy  with  the  big  helpless 
eyes  haunted  me  as  I  steered  Caribee 
out  into  the  current,  a  fair  light  breeze  swelling 
my  sails  toward  Kalafat.  The  very  name  sug- 
gests the  Arabian  nights,  but  I  was  too  hun- 
gry to  think  of  anything  else  as  I  approached 
the  town.  It  seemed  as  though  the  whole 
population  of  the  interior  had  formed  an  en- 
campment of  ox-teams  at  the  river's  edge,  and 
was  occupied  exclusively  with  freighting  -ships 
with  hard  red  wheat.  Here,  at  least,  was  no 
famine,  whatever  might  be  the  case  in  Russia; 
and  it  was  natural  for  me  to  conclude  that 
most  of  these  ships  were  chartered  for  the 
starving  people  of  the  great  Czar — but  in  this 
I  was  much  mistaken. 

The  bullock  carts  I  saw  here,  as  elsewhere 
in  Roumania,  creaked  very  much  as  they  mov- 
ed, for  they  had  no  tires.  They  carried  very  big 
loads,  however,  and  in  a  country  without  rocks 
wear  very  well. 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE 


2O5 


Seeing  Kalafat  in  the  height  of  the  shipping 
season  is  deceptive,  for  the  ships  along  shore 
instinctively  made  me  anticipate  paved  streets 
and  a  good  hotel.  I  gave  my  canoe  over  to 
the  keeper  of  the  floating  bath,  an  institution 


IN    THE   CAFE    AT    KALAFAT  :      A     BIG   TURK   GIVING   ORDERS   TO   A   SLIM     AND 
IMBECILE-LOOKING    WAITER. 


where  I  always  found  German  spoken,  and 
then,  smoothing  my  dress  out  for  the  sake  of 
appearances,  struggled  up  a  high  dirt  bank. 
On  the  edges  of  this  I  found  ruins  of  batteries 
that  reminded  me,  for  the  first  time,  that  I  was 
on  a  battle-field  of  the  late  Russo-Turkish  War. 


206  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

Once  on  this  plateau,  I  stumbled  about  over 
very  irregular  ground,  hoping  to  reach  the 
heart  of  the  city.  Finding,  after  passing  through 
the  settlement  from  end  to  end,  that  I  was  in  a 
straggling  village,  I  inquired  for  the  best 
hotel,  and  was  told,  in  German,  that  Lloyd's 
had  that  reputation;  and  to  Lloyd's  I  accord- 
ingly hurried.  It  was  a  very  dirty  house,  but 
as  I  took  a  seat  at  one  of  the  out-of-door  tables 
I  did  not  mind  that.  Near  me  sat  a  homesick- 
looking  gentleman,  and  to  him  I  appealed 
when  I  discovered  that  the  waiter  and  I  had  no 
speech  in  common.  My  lonely  friend  was  an 
Italian  grain  merchant.  He  ordered  a  very 
bad  breakfast,  but  that  was  no  fault  of  his.  He 
told  me  all  I  ever  knew  or  expect  to  know  of 
this  dirty  place. 

The  population  appears  to  be,  according 
to  him,  made  up  of  three-fourths  Jews,  one- 
fourth  Greeks,  and  the  balance  "  Europeans." 
His  arithmetic  confused  me,  but  he  left  no 
doubt  as  to  his  opinion  regarding  Jews  and 
Greeks.  His  use  of  the  word  "  European " 
manifestly  suggested  that  he  did  not  regard 
the  countries  east  of  the  Adriatic  as  worthy  of 
serious  treatment;  in  fact,  we  have  a  counter- 
part of  his  feelings  in  the  way  Americans  of 


DOWN   THE   DANUBE 


207 


the  South  and  West  draw  the  line  sharply  be- 
tween   "  white    men  "    on    the    one    side,    and 
negros,      greas- 
ers,Canucks,  In- 
dians,and  Dagos 

_;,— K« 

?£S¥^ 

», 


on  the  other.  1 
remember  a  lit- 
tle girl  of  half 
Italian, half  Irish 
parentage  w  h  o 
protested  once 
in  regard  to  her 
choice  of  par- 
ents: "Myfather 
was  a  '  Dago,' 
but  my  mother 
was  '  white  ! ' ' 

This  "  dago  " 
friend  of  mine 
was,  neverthe- 
less, a  charming 
companion,  who 
exiled  himself 
here  once  a 
year  for  the  sake 
of  the  grain  trade,  as  many  another  lives  the 
life  of  a  cowboy  or  miner  in  Nevada  or  Mon- 


TURKISH    SKIPPER    AT     KALAFAT,    WHO    IS 
ANGRY    AT   HIS  CONSUL. 


208  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

tana,  praying  in  his  heart  for  the  day  of  de- 
liverance. 

As  we  sat  and  chatted,  there  walked  in  the 
captain  of  a  Turkish  ship,  a  fine  fellow  indeed, 
with  a  tremendous  turban  on  his  head  and  a 
sash  of  gorgeous  red.  Near  him  was  a  tall, 
bony  savage  from  Montenegro,  whose  dress 
reminded  me  of  Albania — short,  spreading 
white  skirts,  a  red  loose  fez,  long  and  elabor- 
ately worked  leggings,  and  a  big  belt  bristling 
with  pistols  and  dirks.  He  would  have  made 
a  panic  on  the  New  York  Produce  Exchange, 
yet  his  business  here  was  simply  to  buy  grain. 
All  were  not  so  picturesque  as  these  two,  for 
the  Jews  and  Greeks  dressed  for  the  most  part 
after  the  western  fashion.  It  was  a  motley 
crowd,  however,  that  jostled  about  the  river- 
side, as  I  made  my  way  back  to  the  bath- 
house. Each  nationality  seemed  to  have  a 
representative,  although  the  cosmopolitanism 
that  resulted  smacked  more  of  Castle  Garden 
than  of  Paris. 

The  economic  importance  of  Kalafat  to 
Roumania  seems  to  be  in  the  fact  that  it  loads 
thirty  big  barges  here  every  year,  in  which 
respect  it  has  just  twice  the  importance  of 
Cetate  a  few  miles  further  up  the  river.  But 


DOWN   THE   DANUBE 


209 


when  the  vessels  have  floated  away,  and  the 
peasants'  wains  have  creaked  off  to  the  villages, 
and  the  corn  brokers  fled  to  seek  other  victims, 
then  must  Kalafatbe  indeed  a  desolate  village, 
populated  principally  by  tax-gatherers,  sol- 
diers, and  customs  guards. 

Smoking  is  a  bad  habit,  but  I  am  sorry  for 
the  man  who  cannot  indulge  himself  occasion- 


BORNE  BY  BULGARIAN  PORTERS. 


ally.  This  reflection  was  mine  on  that  beauti- 
ful morning  of  August,  1891,  as  I  reclined  lux- 
uriously upon  the  floor  of  Caribec,  crossed  my 
bare  feet  upon  the  upper  deck,  gazed  out  upon 
miles  and  miles  of  glassy  river  and  meditatively 
smoked  myself  into  a  Turkish  paradise. 

Behind  me  Roumania  with  its  frontier  pickets 
and  bad  breakfast  was  quickly  forgotten  as  the 


2IO 


PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 


Danube  current  bore  me  nearer  the  shores  of 
the  Sultan's  empire,  to  the  Bulgarian  fortress 
called  Widin.  Through  the  merciful  medium 
of  smoke  there  rose  before  me  from  the  bosom 
of  the  stream  a  city  of  transcendent  beauty,  of 
palaces  and  castles  ;  minarets  and  towers; 
strange  battlements  and  oriental  cupolas.  I 


CARRYING   WATER    FROM    THE   RIVER,    WIDIN,    BULGARIA. 

counted  eight  mosques  shining  in  the  golden 
sunlight;  in  fact,  the  city  seemed  at  every 
angle  brilliant  with  color  and  precious  stones. 
I  have  seen  descriptions  of  Pekin,  Stamboul, 
Damascus,  and  other  oriental  cities,  which  ap- 
peared enormously  exaggerated  when  tested 
by  actual  residence;  but  none  that  I  have  read 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE 


211 


is  too  highly  colored  to  match  my  first  impres- 
sion of  Widin. 

In  the  dancing  sunlight  every  outline  sug- 
gested neatness,  cleanliness,  prosperity.  The 
people  of  both  sexes  disporting  themselves  in 
the  water  beneath  the 
walls  of  the  citadel,  sug- 
gested a  simpler  and 
perhaps  more  innocent 
state  of  society  than 
that  of  to-day.  Deep- 
sea  vessels,  with  high 
prows  and  poops  and 
enormous  topsail  yards, 
such  as  an  Othello  may 
have  commanded  in  the 
days  of  Venetian  splen- 
dor, were  moored  in  a 
picturesque  cluster  un- 
der the  guns  of  the  town, 
as  though  still  anticipat- 
ing a  sudden  attack  from 

the  enemy  across  the  river.  I  was  floating 
toward  what  appeared  to  be  the  Turkey  of  400 
years  ago — the  Turkey  of  conquest,  the  Tur- 
key whose  Pashas  were  the  dread  of  Europe, 
whose  cavalry  scoured  the  plains  of  Vienna, 


PRIEST    OK    THK    GRP.KK    CHURCH. 
SKETCHED    AT    WIDIN. 


212 


PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 


whose  fleets  held  the  Mediterranean  as  part  of 
the  Sublime  Porte. 

But  I  pulled  in  under  the  overhanging  spars 
of  the  Turkish  ships  (Krelasch  is,  I  believe, 
the  local  name),  and  found,  as  I  almost  ex- 
pected, a  floating 
bath-house  kept  by 
a  Hungarian  gypsy 
who  spoke  German. 
She  told  me  her  hus- 
band had  gone  away 
on  business,  but  that 
she  would  take  good 
care  of  my  boat. 

She  did— but  I  did 
wrong  in  coming 
ashore.  From  the 
midst  of  a  cigarette 
cloud  and  far  out  on 
the  Danube  I  should 
have  remained  con- 
tent with  the  sunlit 
minarets,  the  frowning  battlements,  the  flitting 
caiques,  and  dimly  seen  forms  of  oriental  maid- 
ens. All  this  at  least  made  a  picture  of  ro- 
mance when  seen  from  a  distance — when  close- 
ly inspected  all  was  ragged,  dirty  and  smelly. 


L 


SKETCHED    IN   THE   MARKET,    WIDIN. 


DOWN   THE   DANUBE  213 

The  town  is  a  gathering  of  wretched  huts, 
planted  indiscriminately  all  over  the  space 
within  the  walls.  A  few  thoroughfares  wind 
through  the  place,  on  which  the  shops  front — 
shops  which  represent  little  more  than  a  board 
shelter,  one  side  completely  open  to  the  street. 
In  these  hutches  sit  the  cobblers,  tailors,  tin- 
smiths, and  other  tradespeople,  carrying  on 
every  variety  of  local  manufacture  in  the  open 
air,  in  sight  of  all  their  customers.  Widin 
still  remains  oriental  in  form,  though  Bulgaria 
struggles  bravely  to  cast  off  Turkish  allegiance 
and  enter  the  family  of  European  nations. 
One  of  the  mosques  I  peeped  into  suggested 
either  poverty  or  indifference  on  the  part  of 
the  congregation,  for  the  only  evidence  of 
comfort,  to  say  nothing  of  wealth,  was  in  a 
few  rugs  on  the  floor. 

The  shops  contained  only  what  was  needed 
in  the  daily  life  of  the  town  and  neighborhood, 
obviously  very  primitive  needs.  I  looked  par- 
ticularly for  oriental  carving  or  decoration, 
any  work  of  art  that  I  might  take  home  as  a 
keepsake,  but  could  discover  nothing  better 
than  cheap  stuff  of  French  or  German  manu- 
facture. 

Russia  has  set  the  fashions  for  the  military 


214 


PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 


of  Bulgaria,  though  the  peasantry  and  towns- 
people cling  to  the  dress  of  their  ancestors. 
The  native  cafes  were  full  of  picturesque  Turks, 
and  some  of  the  peasants  whom  I  met  coming 
in  to  market, were  not  only 
highly  picturesque,  but  of 
fine  figure  as  well.  The 
troops  here  seem  to  be 
very  dirty  and  badly  dis- 
ciplined, though  physical- 
ly of  good  proportion. 
Their  barracks  were  in 
keeping — the  yard  dirty, 
fence-palings  down,  many 
windows  smashed. 
However,  far  from 
blaming  the  Bulgar- 
ians for  the  generally 

shiftless  appearance  of  their  troops,  one  might 
rather  wonder  that  they  produce  even  what 
they  do ! 

At  the  restaurant  "  Eiffel,"  which  I  learned 
was  the  Delmonico  of  Widin,  I  saw  some  Bul- 
garian officers,  dressed  almost  exactly  like 
those  of  Russia.  They  had  more  swagger 
about  them  than  those  of  Germany  or  France, 
but  I  did  not  mind  that,  for  I  notice  that  the 


TURKISH    PORTER   AT   WIDIN. 


DOWN   TPIE   DANUBE 


215 


weaker  the  government  the  more  swagger  it 
seems  to  expect  from  its  representatives. 
Roumania  and  Servia  keep  Bulgaria  company 
under  this  head. 

The  "  Eiffel  "  restaurant  in  Widin  is  perhaps 
even  worse  than  that  of  Kalafat;  democracy 
seemed  to  have  made  some  headway  since 
1877,  for  the  waiters  puffed 
tobacco  smoke  as  they  took 
the  guests'  orders,  and  re- 
clined at  full  length  on  a 
bench  in  the  lull  of  business. 

When  the  Danube  steamer 
is  announced,  however,  there 
is  considerable  life  in  the 
place.  A  file  of  troops  march- 
es to  the  landing  stage,  ac- 
companied by  a  detail  of  cus- 
toms officers;  the  agents  of 
the  steamship  company  ap- 
pear in  full  uniform  ;  the 
Turkish  porters  and  steve- 
dores are  on  hand  to  assist, 
and  the  balance  of  the  popula- 
tion looks  on.  The  trade  here 
should  be  considerable,  for  it  is  the  first  depot 
of  the  Austrian  steamship  company  where  the 


A  BULGARIAN  GENS-D*- 
ARME  SKETCHED  IN  THE 
STREET  AT  WIDIN. 


2l6  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

up-river  stuff  is  transferred  to  deep-sea  vessels; 
then,  too,  here  is  a  population  officially  stated 
to  be  about  14,0x30.  In  spite  of  all  this,  the 
place  is  not  able  to  support  an  inn  fit  to  sleep 
in,  and  the  passengers  who  left  the  boat  ap- 
peared in  a  minority  as  compared  with  the 
warlike  customs  guards,  who  demanded  their 
passports  and  rummaged  their  luggage.  Per- 
haps trade  would  improve  here,  if  there  were 
fewer  custom-house  obstructions  and  more 
security. 

The  place  was  well  fortified  during  the  war 
of  1877  between  Turkey  and  Russia,  but  the 
works  are  not  now  kept  up.  I  saw  some 
pieces  of  artillery  lying  about  on  the  walls, 
but  no  evidence  that  any  one  attached  a  value 
to  them.  In  fact,  the  wandering  tourist  here 
can  scarcely  feel  that  war  raged  here  as  late 
as  1885,  when  the  Servians  sought  to  take  the 
town  by  storm.  To-day  the  signs  of  decay 
and  decrepitude  are  so  many,  that  it  is  start- 
ling to  be  told  that  Osman  Pasha  made  this 
his  base  when  marching  to  occupy  Plevna  in 
July  of  1877,  leading  30,000  men  to  that  mem- 
orable fighting  ground. 


DOWN   THE   DANUBE  21? 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE    POLITICAL    AGENT    OF    BULGARIA    SAYS 
SOMETHING    ABOUT    RUSSIA 

WHEN  I  made  arrangements  for  cruising 
down  the  Danube,  I  was  under  the 
impression  that  Turkey  included  Bulgaria,  and 
that  my  passport  must  therefore  be  stamped 
with  the  Ottoman  seal.  The  geographies, 
almanacs,  and  encyclopedias  fortified  my  view, 
and  the  Turkish  Consul  in  London  told  me 
that  Bulgaria  was  to  Turkey  what  Texas  is  to 
the  United  States. 

This  seemed  conclusive,  but  it  was  not. 

In  Paris,  or  Petersburg,  or  Vienna,  or  Ber- 
lin— it  is  not  well  to  be  too  positive  at  this 
moment — at  any  rate  let  us  say  that  it  was  on 
the  way  to  Turkey,  I  was  so  fortunate  as  to 
make  the  acquaintance  of  a  most  able  and 
amiable  Bulgarian.  He  was  acting  as  the 
diplomatic  representative  of  his  country,  and 
during  the  time  which  I  spent  in  one  of  the 
four  indefinite  capitals  I  had  many  instructive 
hours  with  him. 


218 


PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 


Russia  has  of  late  taken  to  kidnapping  or 
assassinating  Bulgarians  who  express  opin- 
ions at  variance  with  those  of  the  "commit- 
tees "  which  she  "  unofficially  "  supports.  As 

I  write,  the  pa- 
pers are  indig- 
nantly com- 
menting on  the 
murder  of  Dr. 
Vulkovitch,  at 
Constantinople, 
under  circum- 
stances which 
leave  little 
doubt  that  Mus- 
covite money 
from  police 
headquarters 
did  the  dirty 
job. 

My  Bulgarian 
fr  ie  n  d  ,  there- 
fore, took  no 

pains  to  advertise  his  whereabouts.  His  name 
was  not  in  any  directory,  nor  was  his  address 
known  at  the  United  States  Legation.  We 
dined  frequently  together,  but  he  took  pains 


THE   BULGARIAN    OFFICIAL   WHO   DRESSES   LIKE 
A   RUSSIAN    AND   EXAMINES   PASSPORTS. 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE 


219 


that  it  should  be  at  a  different  place  each  time. 
My  acquaintance  with  this  interesting  diplo- 
mate  I  owed  to  a  mutual  friend  in  London, 
whose  letter  I  bore,  and  whose  name  ensured 
for  me  a  generous  wel- 
come. 

When  he  learned  that 
I  was  about  to  visit  his 
country,  he  said: 

"  Have  you  a  pass- 
port ? " 

I  answered  that  I  had. 
"Is  it  Bulgarian  ?  " 
I  answered  no. 
"  Then,"  said  he,  "  it 
will  be  of  no  use  to  you." 
This  opened  my  eyes, 
for  the  first  time,  to  the 
real  and  not  merely  im- 
aginary weakness  of  the 
Turkish  rule.     I  asked 
him  what  I  should  do. 
He  told  me  not  to  wor- 
ry, he  would  write  me  a  letter  that  would  pro- 
tect me  where  a  Turkish  seal  would  be  laughed 
at,  and  he  did  so,  to  my  great  comfort. 

One   night    he    proposed,  as  a  toast,    "  The 


COMMON    SIGHT    ALONG    THE 
BULGARIAN     SHORE. 


220  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

German  Emperor."  He  drank  it  with  obvious 
sincerity;  so  plainly  so,  that  I  begged  him 
afterward  to  explain  to  me  how  it  happened 
that  he  emptied  his  glass  with  such  fervor. 

He  looked  at  me  closely  for  a  moment, 
leaned  forward  on  his  elbows  after  the  manner 
of  a  man  suspicious  of  eavesdroppers,  then 
told  me  a  story  sounding  something  like 
this: 

"  I  am  a  Bulgarian,  and  love  my  country. 
My  education  I  owe  to  Americans,  that  is  to 
say,  Robert  College  in  Constantinople,  where 
most  of  the  leading  men  of  my  country  go  to 
study. 

"We  have  achieved,  after  many  years  of 
struggle  and  bloodshed,  something  that  passes 
for  national  independence — at  least  so  far  as 
Turkey  is  concerned.  She  has  kept  us  in  slavery 
for  centuries,  and  as  a  consequence  our  people 
arc  far  behind  what  they  should  be  in  educa- 
tion and  enterprise.  But  in  spite  of  the  mis- 
rule and  social  demoralization  we  have  suffered 
— a  demoralization,  by  the  way,  common  to 
Servia  and  Roumania  as  well — the  Bulgar  has 
preserved  the  tradition  of  an  honorable  ances- 
try, and  awaits  with  confidence  the  dawn  of 
national  liberty. 


DOWN   THE   DANUBE  22$ 

"  Now  you  understand  why  I  raised  my  glass 
to  William  II.,  German  Emperor,  Protector  of 
the  Danube." 


226  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

CHAPTER   XXII 

THE  JEW  FROM  A  DANUBIAN  POINT  OF  VIEW 

ONE  night  I  was  the  guest  of  a  large  landed 
proprietor  in  the  richest  agricultural  dis- 
trict of  Hungary.    He  held  a  high  professional 
position    in   the    country,  and   was  altogether 
what  is  called  a  leading  man. 

Being  myself  about  to  inspect  the  Jew  of 
Russia,  and  feeling  a  righteous  indignation 
against  persecution  of  any  sort,  I  was  struck 
by  hearing  him  refer  to  the  Jew  in  Hungary 
as  an  "  unmitigated  pest."  This  characteriza- 
tion seemed  very  harsh.  I  took  the  first  op- 
portunity of  drawing  him  out  on  the  subject, 
and  made  a  note  immediately  afterward  of  the 
conversation. 

"I  speak  only  for  Hungary — for  the  great 
majority  of  the  people  here.  The  Jew  to  us  is 
a  pest.  What  he  is  to  Russia,  to  America,  or 
to  other  countries,  I  cannot  measure.  Here  he 
is  not  desirable,  and,  in  my  opinion,  our  gov- 
ernment would  be  doing  a  wise  thing  if  it  shut 
him  absolutely  out  of  the  country. 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE 


227 


"  The  Germans  do  not  suffer  as  we  do  from 
the  Jews;  they  are  more  thrifty,  more  mercan- 
tile in  their  habits  than  we  are.  In  the  parts 
of  Hungary  where  the  people  are  of  German 


JEWS   AT   A   RUSSIAN    RAILWAY    STATION. 

extraction  the  Jews  do  not  thrive  so  well  as  in 
the  rest  of  the  country.  Our  Magyar  people 
are  generous,  unsuspicious  and  confiding.  The 
Jew  comes  to  them  with  a  smile  upon  his  face, 


228 


PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 


promises  to  help  them  when  they  get  into  debt, 
sells  them  the  goods  they  fancy,  tells  them  to 
never  mind  about  payment  at  the  time,  coaxes 
them  to  run  up  an  account,  gives  them  a  great 


RUSSIAN    PEASANT  SELLING   HIS   LOAD   OF    WHEAT  TO   THE  JEW,  RENI,  MOUTH 
OF  THE   DANUBE,    1892. 

deal  of  credit  in  the  beginning — then,  after  the 
poor  people  have  been  wheedled  into  a  fool's 
paradise  of  credit,  the  Jew  presents  his  big  bill. 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  22Q 

His  debtors  cannot  meet  it  in  ready  money: 
they  have  not  kept  even  a  record  of  it.  Incon- 
sequence, they  must  sell  their  cattle  or  crops 
to  meet  the  obligation  to  the  Jew. 

"  This  is  his  grand  opportunity.  He  has  now 
got  the  peasants  where  he  wants  them.  They 
are  now  easily  induced  to  pledge  their  cattle, 
their  crops — aye,  their  very  homesteads — to 
meet  the  accumulation  of  little  debts  marked 
against  them  at  the  Jew's  store.  The  peasants 
who  once  fall  into  the  Jew's  clutches  by  giving 
mortgages  rarely  get  out.  They  have  to  keep 
on  trading  at  the  Jew's  store;  they  are  exposed 
to  every  form  of  veiled  usury,  and  lead  the  bal- 
ance of  their  lives  in  serfdom — not  to  an  aris- 
tocratic Magyar,  but  to  the  Jew." 

Of  course  I  protested  that  the  Hungarian 
must  learn  thrift  in  order  to  elude  the  wiles  of 
the  Hebrew. 

"  That  may  be,  but  meanwhile  our  country 
is  suffering.  You  in  America  have  driven  out 
the  Chinese  because  you  disliked  them.  You 
will  soon  protect  yourself  against  the  Jews:  if 
you  do  not  it  will  be  because  you  dare  not. 
The  Jews  have  got  now  the  whole  of  your  ne- 
gro population  in  debt  to  them,  and  hold  them 
in  a  slavery  quite  as  complete  as  any  exercised 


230  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

by  their  former  masters.  The  Jew  is  prac- 
ticing in  all  your  Southern  States  the  same 
wiles  that  have  made  him  the  bond  creditor  of 
the  peasantry  here.'' 


ROUMANIAN    PFASANT,    NEAR   THE   RUSSIAN    BORDER. 

I  was  forced  to  admit  that  the  Jew  was  flour- 
ishing in  America  to  an  amazing  extent,  par- 
ticularly amongst  the  negroes,  and,  of  course, 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE  231 

if  we  maintained  the  right  to  exclude  the  prod- 
uct of  alien  labor,  it  was  but  logical  to  ex- 
clude the  foreign  laborer  into  the  bargain. 

"  Aside  from  the  mere  money  aspect  of  the 
question,  the  Jew  is  disliked  in  Hungary  be- 
cause he  appears  exclusively  in  a  mercenary 
role  to  the  great  mass  of  the  people.  His  only 
object  is  money.  He  has  no  other  interest  in  the 
community  that  he  invades  but  to  extract  from 
it  what  money  he  can,  and  then  move  some- 
where else.  The  great  national  questions  that 
agitate  our  people  fall  coldly  upon  Jewish  ears. 
If  we  go  to  war,  the  Jews  get  rich  on  contracts 
while  the  Magyar  spills  his  blood  in  the  line  of 
battle.  The  Jews  evade  military  service  as 
they  seek  to  evade  legitimate  taxation.  They 
shift  about;  they  do  not  identify  themselves 
with  the  community.  The  gypsy  also  shifts, 
but  he  is  full  of  generous  qualities.  The  Jew 
shifts  only  to  plague  some  other  spot." 

"  But  would  you  seriously  advocate  anti- 
Semitic  legislation  in  Hungary  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Most  decidedly — and  most  radically.  I 
would  do  nothing  for  love  of  revenge,  but  sim- 
ply determine  that  after  a  reasonable  period 
no  Jew  should  be  seen  in  Hungary.  Of  course, 
I  do  not  expect  to  see  this  happy  day.  The 


232  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

Jews  control  most  of  our  newspapers;  they  are 
also  well  represented  in  influential  positions, 
and  the  very  generosity  of  temperament  which 
makes  the  Magyar  an  easy  prey  to  his  credit- 
or, makes  him  play  the  humanitarian  to  a  fatal 
degree.  The  great  ambition  of  a  Magyar  is  to 
pretend  that  he  is  a  cosmopolitan  superior  to 
prejudice.  This  works  in  the  Jew's  favor  at 
present." 

My  host  told  me  many  more  things  about 
the  race  he  detested.  I  had  heard  similar  ex- 
pressions from  other  quarters,  but  attached  lit- 
tle importance  to  them.  Coming,  however, 
from  the  mouth  of  a  serious,  responsible  and 
capable  Hungarian  patriot,  under  such  circum- 
stances, they  led  me  to  compare  notes  with 
others.  Strange  as  it  sounds,  I  found  no  Chris- 
tian in  Hungary  who  did  not  express  himself 
as  forcibly  as  my  host.  Lawyers,  merchants, 
men  about  town,  soldiers,  traveling  agents, 
officials — with  one  accord  they  spoke  of  the 
Jews  as  a  pest,  an  injury  to  their  country,  call- 
ing for  strong  governmental  interference. 

In  Russia  I  heard  the  Jew  characterized  by 
American  and  English  merchants — to  say 
nothing  of  consuls.  Their  language,  when 
boiled  down,  left  as  residuum  the  opinion  that 


DOWN    THE    DANUBE 


233 


the  Czar  had  done  but  one  good  thing  since  he 
came  to  power — namely,  abating  the  Jewish 
nuisance.  This  view  struck  me  very  much,  for 
I  was  not  prepared  for  such  language,  except- 
ing in  the  mouth  of  a  Russian  official.  In  the 
course  of  my 
Russian  wan- 
derings I  talked 
with  plenty  of 
Jews,  for  they 
crowded  all  the 
railway  trains" 
and  seemed  the 
only  prosperous 
people  along 
my  line  of  trav- 
el from  Reni 
through  Odessa 
and  Kieff. 

As  a  rule  they 
wore  a  lock   of 
hair  in  front  of 
each     ear,     be- 
sides allowing    the    hair    to    grow    long  else- 
where.    Their  head  dress  was  a  uniform  cap 
of  cloth    with    an    extensive     vizor.     A    long 
black  alpaca  ulster  came  to  the  ankles.     On 


SKETCH    OF    A    ROUMANIAN    COWBOY. 


234  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

their  feet  they  wore  riding  boots.  Seeing 
them  uniformly  crowding  the  railway  stations 
I  might  have  been  pardoned  for  suspecting 
them  of  being  emigrants  seeking  a  neighboring 
country.  But  in  conversation  they  proved  de- 
void of  any  desire  to  leave  Russia.  They  spoke 
to  me  freely  of  their  hard  lot,  the  cruelty  of 
Russian  law,  the  hope  of  the  future.  When  I 
told  them  of  the  grand  prospect  Baron  Hirsch 
held  out  to  them  of  having  land  of  their  own  in 
the  other  hemisphere,  they  promptly  repudiated 
all  desire  to  enter  into  any  such  enterprise — 
in  fact,  none  of  them  showed  any  particular  in- 
terest in  the  Hirsch  colonization  scheme.  What 
they  wanted  was  to  stay  where  they  were,  move 
about  among  the  Russian  peasants,  live  the 
life  of  itinerant  brokers— anything  but  settle 
down  to  the  hard  life  of  the  colonist. 

Not  one  could  I  induce  to  talk  politics.  The 
moment  I  referred  to  the  prospect  of  war,  the 
condition  of  the  Russian  troops,  my  Jewish 
friend,  hitherto  so  communicative,  immediately 
closed  his  mouth  tight,  drew  his  open  palms 
up  under  his  ears,  rolled  his  eyes,  and  said: 
"Excuse  me — that  is  forbidden;"  "The  police 
do  not  expect  us  to  discuss  this" — and  no  ef- 
forts of  mine  could  move  him. 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE 


235 


One  of  the  leaders  of  the  Russian  revolu- 
tionary party,  a  friend  of  George  Kennan,  told 
me  that  the  Jews  were  of  no  use  to  them.  They 
were  unreliable.  Their  love  of  money  was  such 


THE  CAB-DRIVER    AT  GALATZ,   WHO   DROVE  ME   TO  THE    RUSSIAN    BORDER. 

that  they  would  make  a  trade  of  selling  secrets. 
They  would  take  no  risks  in  the  cause  of  lib- 
erty, and  gave  no  assistance  to  the  patriotic 
band  working  in  all  parts  of  the  world  for  their 


236  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

country's  deliverance.  "Jews  did  most  of  the 
smuggling,"  he  said;  "and  it  was  easy  to  hire 
Jews  to  take  goods  into  the  country — every- 
thing but  printed  matter. 

"The  Jew  knows  the  law,"  added  he.  "If 
he  is  caught  smuggling  silk  he  goes  to  prison. 
If  he  is  caught  smuggling  a  revolutionary  pam- 
phlet he  goes  to  Siberia." 

I  found  the  same  distrust  of  the  Jew  amongst 
the  Polish  patriots  of  Warsaw.  All  admitted 
their  cleverness,  but  none  would  employ  them 
for  fear  of  being  betrayed  for  money.  They 
gave  me  several  instances  to  justify  their  feel- 
ing, and  assured  me  that  the  Jews  were  doing 
nothing  to  strengthen  the  hope  of  reform  in  the 
minds  of  earnest  Russians;  on  the  contrary, 
they  felt  sure  of  profiting,  whichever  party  pre- 
vailed, and  were  incapable  of  any  patriotic 
emotion. 

In  these  latter  days  thousands  of  dollars  have 
been  paid  by  foreign  governments  for  alleged 
information  furnished  by  Jews — but  officers  in 
charge  of  secret  service  funds  have  assured  me 
that  such  information  is  rarely  well  founded. 

What  the  Russian  thinks  of  the  Jew  we  know 
too  well.  Two  papers  are  printed  in  London 
alone  publishing  to  the  world  the  intolerance 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE 


237 


in  this  regard  that  animates  the  government  of 
the  Czar.  I  did  not  quite  realize  the  full  force 
of  this  until  one  night  I  took  my  seat  in  a  rail- 
way carriage,  prepared  to  make  a  night  of  it 


THE   RUSSIAN    RAILWAY   CONDUCTOR    AT   RLNI,    ON   THE   DANUBE 


51 


238  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 


A  Jewish  trader  was  preparing  for  the 
form  of  enjoyment  when  a  Russian  traveler  en- 
tered.     He  looked  around,  saw  that  he  couli 
not  get  a  good  stretch  for  his  legs  without  dis' 
turbing  one  of  the  passengers,  noticed  that  onu 
of  these  passengers  was  a  Jew,  and  ordered  hir 
out  of  the  carriage.     Tne  Jew  ventured  to  prc; 
test;    the   Russian   seized   him   by  the   colla 
promptly  kicked  him   out  on   to  the  platforrr 
seized  his  gripsack,  dropped  it  after  him,  the 
bowed  to  me   politely  and  spread  his  blanke 
for  the   night,  cursing  at  the  impudence  of  th 
late  occupant.    The  whole  proceeding  occupie 
but  a  few  seconds,  and  seemed  to  call  for  no 
comment   on   the    part  of  the  officials.     The1, 
ejected  Jew  made   no  complaint.     He  picked 
up  his  traps  and  was  soon  seen  climbing  into! 
another  compartment,  where  I  hope  he  found 
a  more  friendly  reception. 

Now,  it  is  of  course  very  dangerous  to  gener- 
alize from  the  little  experience  that  a  traveler 
can  hope  to  acquire  when  only  passing  through 
the  country.  In  my  case  I  do  not  pretend  to 
more  than  relate  a  brief  episode  for  what  it  is 
worth.  But  it  seemed  to  me  odd,  not  that  I 
met  people  prejudiced  against  the  house  of  Is- 
rael, but  that  amidst  all  classes  and  all  peoples 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  239 

—Poles,  Russians,  Hungarians,  Roumanians, 
nerchants,  officials,  Nihilists,  patriots— even 
mongst  English  and  Americans  doingbusiness 
n  the  country,  I  could  find  no  one  who  cham- 
)ioned  the  cause  of  the  Jew.  I  write  only  what 
saw  and  heard. 


240  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

CHAPTER   XXIII 

RUSSIA   AND   GERMANY   IN   THE   BALANCE 


German    Emperor   shares,    with    the 
JL     best-informed  men  in  his  army,  the  be- 
lief that  Russia  intends  to  attack  him   at  the 
earliest  convenient  opportunity.     It  is  not  the 
Czar  who  is  urging  war.  Those  who  know  that 
monarch  well  scout  the  idea.     He  loves  peace 
and  quiet,  and  does  not  wish  to  be  disturbed. 
How  long  he  can  make  his  personal  wishes  pre- 
vail we  cannot  say,  for  he  may  have  to  choose  be- 
tween war  and  disquieting  agitation.  His  min- 
isters, who  see  more  clearly  than  their  master, 
realize  that  the  economic  condition  of  Russia 
has  been  going  from  bad  to  worse  under  a  sys- 
tem of  protection  and  repression  that  has  no 
parallel  in  modern  times.     Commercial  enter- 
prise is  hampered  by  a  swarm  of  police,  who 
are  able  to  levy  blackmail  upon  any  tradesman 
who  is  not  "protected."    Inquiry  of  every  kind 
is  carefully  stifled,  and  even   French  newspa- 
pers are  "blacked  out"  by  the  censor  if  they 
contain  news  contrary  to  police  wishes.     Pop- 


DOWN  THE   DANUBE 


241 


ular  discontent  exists,  and  it  is  the  object  of 
the  government  to  divert  attention  from  do- 
mestic affairs  to  the 
enemy  beyond.  Rus- 
sia's active  hatred  of 
Germany  dates  from 
1878,  and  is  one  of 
the  many  legacies  of 
the  Bismarck  era. 
Every  one  remem- 
bers that  the  Russian 
army  was  in  sight  of 
Constantinople,  and 
was  prepared  to  take 
possession,  when 
England  interfered. 
The  Russians  re- 
turned from  the  war 
expecting  to  receive 
at  the  Berlin  Con- 
gress, in  a  diplomatic 
way,  all  that  they 
had  given  up  on  the 
battle-field.  In  this 
they  were  mistaken, 

and  their  ambassador  returned  from  Berlin  to 
tell  his  people  that  the  fruits  of  the  war   of 


ROUMANIAN   PEASANT  WOMAN. 


242 


PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 


1877  had  been  lost  to  them  through  German 
perfidy.  From  that  day  to  this,  hatred  of 
Germany  has  been  preached  as  the  national 
gospel  of  Russia,  and  in  this  hatred  have  been 


in      T 

THE    RUSSIAN    FRONTIER. 


included  Jews,  Poles,  Swedes,  Finns  —  in  short, 
all  the  unorthodox  whose  civilization  draws 
inspiration  from  the  western  neighbor.  "  Rus- 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  243 

sia  for  the  Russians  !  "  is  now  the  cry,  and  the 
orthodox  Russian  Church  shouts  louder  than 
any  one  in  the  congregation. 

The  famine  which  spread  over  part  of  Rus- 
sia last  year  does  not  abate  this  cry  of  revenge. 
On  the  contrary,  there  is  not  a  peasant  who 
does  not  believe  that  in  some  mysterious  way 
the  heretic  Jew  or  German  is  responsible  for 
his  misery;  and  for  that  matter  German  and 
Jew  are  one  to  him,  for  both  are  unorthodox, 
both  un-Russian.  With  this  aspect  of  the  case 
in  mind,  it  seems  strange  indeed  that  the  gov- 
ernment of  Russia  should  be  acting  in  a  man- 
ner to  alienate  the  sympathy  of  subjects  on  her 
western  frontier.  It  is  possible  that  the  Czar's 
ministers  disapprove  of  the  extreme  measures 
taken  in  the  Baltic  provinces  to  expunge  the 
German  language  and  the  Lutheran  faith,  but 
they  know  the  power  of  the  orthodox  clergy, 
and  dare  not  resist  the  only  expression  of  what 
has  to  pass  for  public  opinion. 

The  famine  in  Russia  was,  after  all,  real,  al- 
though it  is  equally  true  that  there  is  always  a 
failure  of  crops  somewhere  in  a  country  so  vast. 
I  lost  no  opportunity,  during  the  height  of  the 
newspaper  discussion  of  the  subject,  to  make 
inquiry  in  proper  quarters  regarding  the  nature 


244  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

and  extent  of  the  alleged  distress.  The  gov- 
ernment seemed  incapable  of  giving  friends  of 
Russia  any  satisfactory  idea  of  the  situation, 
and,  worst  of  all,  did  not  inspire  any  great  con- 
fidence in  the  breasts  of  sympathizers.  One 
day  a  minister  reported  that  the  famine  was  of 
no  serious  character;  soon  afterward  the  press 
announced  that  twenty  millions  of  people  were 
perishing.  In  any  event,  the  situation  is  not 
cheering,  famine  or  no  famine. 

If,  however,  a  famine  really  exists  on  a  large 
scale,  then  is  there  all  the  more  reason  to  ex- 
pect war.  The  peasant  suffers  first;  next  suf- 
fers the  storekeeper,  who  supplies  the  few 
things  the  peasant  cannot  make  himself;  next 
suffers  the  wholesale  dealer,  who  gets  no  more 
orders;  next  suffer  the  merchant  and  the 
banker  of  the  capital  and  the  seaport;  at  last 
suffers  the  only  one  worth  considering — the 
government,  which  feels  it  finally  in  the  con- 
fession of  hundreds  and  thousands  of  police 
officials  that  the  peasant  has  been  taxed  to  his 
last  copeck.  At  this  point  the  news  becomes 
serious,  for  the  government  is  a  costly  one, 
and  only  money  can  sustain  it:  money  for  the 
interest  on  a  huge  public  debt;  money  for  the 
huge  military  machine;  money  for  the  police; 


DOWN   THE   DANUBE 


245 


money  for  the  imperial  family;  money  for  secret 
service;  money  to  maintain  political  jails; 
money  to  guard  prisoners  on  the  way  to  the 
mines  of  Siberia.  When  the  government  finds 
that  money  is  wanting  to  sustain  its  prestige, 


A  ROUMANIAN  MAIDEN  CARRYING  HOME  FROM  THE  KAIK  A  ROLL  OF  MATTING. 

and  that  empty  stomachs  are  growling,  it  may 
choose  war  as  the  lesser  evil. 

Germany  is  not  blind  to  the  dangers  that 
threaten  her,  particularly  from  France.  She 
will  have  one  army  on  the  Rhine,  another  on 


246  PADDLES   AND  POLITICS 

the  Vistula.  Von  Moltke  clearly  foresaw  the 
intention  of  Russia  to  attack,  and  never  failed 
to  urge  upon  William  I.  the  military  necessity 
of  forcing  the  war  as  soon  as  possible.  His 
reasons,  of  course,  were  purely  military.  "  Rus- 
sia," he  argued  in  1875,  "  is  arming  against  us; 
each  year  she  becomes  more  formidable.  We, 
on  the  contrary,  remain  stationary.  Our  duty 
is  to  fight  now,  while  the  heroes  of  1870  are 
still  fresh,  and  not  wait  until  they  are  retired 
from  active  service."  Von  Moltke  saw  more 
clearly  than  Bismarck.  William  I.  was  old,  and 
relied  on  his  prime  minister,  who  kept  telling 
him  that  Russia  was  Germany's  natural  ally; 
that  Russia  must  be  humored  at  any  cost.  On 
the  part  of  the  venerable  William  I.  there  were 
strong  family  reasons  dictating  friendship  for 
the  Russian  Czar;  but  this  does  not  explain 
Bismarck's  apparent  indifference  to  the  fact 
that,  for  the  last  fifteen  years,  Russia  has  been 
cultivating  hatred  of  Germany,  second  only  to 
that  prevailing  in  France. 

The  present  German  Emperor  foreshadowed 
Russia's  attitude  of  to-day  three  years  before 
he  came  to  the  throne.  He  has  been  nearly 
four  years  in  power,  and  has  not  only  not  de- 
clared war,  but  has  not  made  a  single  warlike 


DOWN   THE   DANUBE  247 

demonstration  of  a  practical  kind.  His  mili- 
tary family,  if  I  may  use  the  expression,  are 
ready  to  anticipate  the  blow  of  Russia;  but 
Germany  keeps  the  peace  because  her  Emperor 
is  too  conscientious  to  precipitate  the  conflict. 
Personally  he  is  deeply  pained  by  the  hostile 
attitude  of  the  Russian  government;  his  efforts 
in  the  direction  of  closer  commercial  inter- 
course have  been  met  by  sullen  objection;  he 
has  been  treated  with  personal  discourtesy  by 
the  Czar;  his  own  people  are  outraged  by  the 
daily  account  of  persecution  to  which  Germans 
in  Russia  are  subjected;  he  knows  that  the  line 
of  the  Narew,  the  Niemen,  and  the  Vistula  is 
fortified  by  a  chain  of  strong  forts,  and  that 
Kirghis  Cossacks  patrol  all  the  roads  crossing 
his  frontier.  He  is  perfectly  well  aware  that 
France  is  ready  to  cooperate  with  Russia,  and 
that  her  forces  are  better  organized  than  ever 
before. 

The  German  Emperor  is  not  unpopular  in 
Germany.  This  fact  cannot  be  too  strongly 
presented,  because  many  important  conse- 
quences flow  from  it.  He  has  clone  many 
things  to  disquiet  moderate  Liberals;  has  done 
things  indicating  a  disposition  to  assume  re- 
sponsibility which  might  better  be  shared  with 


248 


PADDLES  AND   POLITICS 


Parliament.  He  has  made  many  impromptu 
speeches  which  a  prime  minister  would  cheer- 
fully have  recalled;  he  has  written  texts  which 
a  strictly  constitutional 
ruler  would  wish  rele- 
gated to  privacy. 
Granted  all  this  and 
much  more,  for  the 
sake  of  argument,  let 
us  come  to  what  he  has 
positively  done,  in  order 
to  understand  why,  in 
spite  of  this,  he  is  Em- 
peror in  the  German 
heart  as  well  as  in  the 
German  army.  He  has 
shown  himself  accessi- 
ble to  complaints  from 
all  classes  of  the  com- 
munity, and  has  inter- 
ested himself  in  reme- 
dies; he  has  abolished 


IN  inn  COKSO  AT  GIURGEVO:    ROU- 


MANIAN OFFICER  PROMENADING,        the  special   laws  against 

socialism  with  most  ex- 
cellent results;  he  has  removed  much  of  the 
irritation  on  the  French  frontier;  he  has  met 
the  grievances  of  the  Polish  Prussians  in  the 


DOWN   THE   DANUBE  249 

same  spirit ;  he  has  shown  a  liberality  in 
dealing  with  the  press  and  platform  agitators 
unknown  in  Bismarck's  day;  he  has  inaugu- 
rated a  commercial  policy  which,  if  not  free 
trade,  is  a  complete  denial  of  the  principle  that 
one  class  has  a  right  to  enrich  itself  at  the  ex- 
pense of  another;  he  has  drawn  together  the 
trade  relations  of  Germans  so  wisely  that 
Vienna,  Budapesth,  and  Berlin  seem  now  like 
sister  cities  of  a  free  federation,  and  has  spread 
the  blessing  of  commercial  freedom  more 
widely  than  was  ever  before  known  in  Europe; 
he  has  instituted  legislation  for  the  benefit  of 
wage-earners  and  wage-payers,  not  as  a  social- 
ist, but  in  the  spirit  of  arbitration  and  fair  play. 
In  iill  of  this  he  has  moved  independently, 
fearlessly,  moderately,  and  in  opposition,  not 
merely  to  the  teachings  of  Bismarck,  but  to  the 
school  of  politicians  created  for  him  by  that 
master  of  medievalism.  Not  only  this,  but  he 
has  interfered  energetically  on  behalf  of  the 
soldier  in  the  ranks;  has  insisted  upon  his 
troops  being  treated  with  proper  respect  by 
officers,  and  particular!}"  by  corporals  and  ser- 
geants. He  has  vigorously  put  down  gambling 
and  fast  living  among  his  officers;  he  has  at 
last  interfered  on  behalf  of  the  overworked 


250  PADDLES   AND    POLITICS 

school-children,  and  is  the  first  to  say  that  a 
teacher  shall  not  cram  the  pupil's  brain  at  the 
expense  of  general  health. 

All  this  sounds  as  though  a  stroke  of  the 
pen  could  make  such  reforms  real,  but  it  is  not 
so.  All  academic  Germany  sets  its  face  against 
school-reform,  and  the  utmost  exercise  of  tact 
and  persistence  is  necessary  on  the  part  of  the 
Emperor  to  make  his  proposals  bear  fruit. 
These  instances  suggest  some  of  the  reasons 
why  Germans  respect  their  Emperor.  There 
are  others  of  a  negative  kind.  For  instance, 
we  have  yet  to  hear  of  anything  he  has  done 
for  the  gratification  of  selfish  tastes.  He  is  a 
plain  liver;  he  has  never  indulged  in  the  vices 
sometimes  associated  with  royalty;  no  officer 
in  his  army  can  say  that  the  Emperor  taught 
him  to  gamble;  in  his  family  he  is  exactly 
what  a  German  would  wish  him  to  be,  and 
the  keenest  sportsman  could  not  wish  a  better 
companion.  Finally,  he  is  a  thorough  soldier: 
he  has  served  from  the  ranks  up;  he  can  do 
sentry  duty  with  a  guardsman,  and  can  also 
manceuver  combined  army  corps  according  to 
the  principles  of  strategy  and  modern  tactics. 
He  has  his  faults,  and  none  sees  them  so  well 
as  the  German  general  and  the  German  par- 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE 


251 


liamentarian.  But  he  has  elements  of  strength 
and  popularity  which  vastly  outbalance  any 
faults  so  far  discovered — and  this  is  what  out- 
side critics  are  apt  to  ignore.  He  has  sources 
of  strength  totally  closed  to  the  Czar.  The 
Kaiser  is  a  man  of  flesh  and  blood;  he  feels  as 
a  German;  his  work  is 
in  harmony  with  the 
spirit  of  German  prog- 
ress; his  failings,  such 
as  he  shows,  are  Ger- 
man. There  is  no  Ger- 
man who  does  not  ad- 
mire him  in  his  private 
relations,  even  though 
differing  from  him  in 
matters  official;  and  we 
all  know  that  in  times 
of  political  danger  the 
people  are  drawn  to  the 
man  of  strong  personal 

character  rather  than  to  the  cautious  and  color- 
less figurehead. 

The  forces  behind  William  II.  are  such  as 
have  never  been  cultivated  in  Russia,  whose 
Czar  lives  in  hourly  dread  of  assassination,  and 
whose  people  are  so  many  items  of  an  official 


A    PARISH    PRIES  F   IN    ROUMANIA. 


252  PADDLES   AND   POLITICS 

budget,  so  many  units  in  a  military  report.  The 
German  Emperor  walks  about  the  streets  of  his 
town  as  fearlessly  and  naturally  as  any  other 
man,  although  the  life  of  his  grandfather  was 
twice  attempted.  One  day,  in  November  of 
1891,  he  was  walking  with  a  guest  through  the 
narrow  and  crowded  thoroughfare  of  a  city  not 
far  from  Berlin.  The  sidewalks  were  narrow, 
and,  as  the  Emperor  is  a  fast  walker,  he  fre- 
quently had  to  step  out  into  the  street  to  pass 
other  pedestrians,  and  especially  clusters  of 
people  who  stopped  for  a  chat.  His  companion, 
who  had  been  in  Russia,  was  struck  by  the 
democratic  manner  in  which  the  German  Em- 
peror rubbed  in  and  out  amongst  porters,  fish- 
wives, peasants,  and  the  rest  of  the  moving 
crowd,  chatting  the  while,  and  acting  as  though 
this  was  his  usual  manner  of  getting  about. 
He  was  struck  still  more  by  the  fact  that  no 
precautions  against  a  possible  murderous  fanatic 
appeared  to  have  been  taken,  and  ventured  to 
speak  of  this.  The  Emperor  laughed  heartily, 
and  said:  "  Oh,  if  I  had  to  stop  to  think  of  such 
things,  I  should  never  get  through  with  my 
day's  work." 

It  is  with  this  man  that  Russia  will  have  to 
reckon  when  her  Cossacks  start  for  Berlin;  and 


DOWN   THE    DANUBE  253 

this  man  is  strong,  not  merely  because  he  rep- 
resents a  strong  army  and  a  strong  political 
administration,  but  because  in  him  center  the 
feelings  of  unity  and  development,  of  pride  of 
achievement,  and  of  promise  of  a  still  greater 
future  which  lie  dormant  in  the  hearts  of  those 
who  regard  Germany  as  the  bulwark  of  civiliza- 
tion against  barbarism — Europe  against  Asia. 


THE   END. 


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